


CAOS Imagines

by nerdsarehot75



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Abuse, Cutting, Depression, Domestic Violence, F/F, One Shot Collection, Panic Attack, Physical Abuse, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 57
Words: 46,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22477711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdsarehot75/pseuds/nerdsarehot75
Summary: Just a collection of imagines and requests I've written for CAOS.
Relationships: Dorcas/Reader, Hilda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith, Hilda Spellman/Reader, Mambo Marie/Reader, Marie LaFleur/Reader, Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith/Reader, Prudence Night/Reader, The Weird Sisters/Reader, Zelda Spellman/Marie LaFleur/Reader, Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith, Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith/Reader, Zelda Spellman/Reader
Comments: 48
Kudos: 374





	1. Angry Words (Madam Spellman)

Zelda was fuming. Anyone on the general vicinity could tell. She was reading the paper, turning the pages a little too hard, her jaw clenched, her eyes flashing. Hilda was trying to mask it by filling the silence with chatter. Ambrose was trying to help but it was hard to hear over the chilliness at the head of the table. 

Miss Wardwell was sitting at the table, one leg crossed over the other, sipping from a floral pattern teacup. Sabrina was glancing between the two women, wary of the iciness between them. 

Sabrina had been out all night, running around the woods with Miss Wardwell after having a chat at school. Or so Zelda had been told. She’d stayed up all night, waiting for the teenage girl to return home. She’d trailed in with her tail between her legs, but Miss Wardwell had been smiling like the cat that got the canary. It had rubbed Zelda the wrong way. 

Sabrina, unable to keep a secret for any length of time from the entirety of her family, had spilled the beans with little more than a raised eyebrow from Zelda. She’d since been sitting in silence under the disappointment and anger rolling off her aunt. Zelda wasn’t sorry for making her squirm.

“I should get to work,” Hilda said, glancing at Zelda as if waiting for the snap. 

Zelda scoffed and adjusted her newspaper. Hilda scurried from the room. Sabrina stood, her chair scraping against the tiles. Miss Waldwell was watching this with bemusement, her teacup hovering by her mouth. When Sabrina hurried from the room without an excuse, glancing over her shoulder to make sure she wouldn’t be shouted at, the brunette gave her a wave.

“Well, Aunty, there’s plenty of work to be done,” Ambrose said, standing up, mug of tea in hand. 

“Then you had better get to it,” she said, not glancing up from her paper.

He left the room for the basement. Zelda refused to acknowledge the brunette’s presence beside her. She heard the clink of the porcelain cup being set down the saucer. She coughed to cover it up, turning the page to the next story. 

“Sabrina is coming along very well,” the brunette said, “very powerful for one so young.”

“I would thank you to leave my niece alone,” she snapped, slamming the paper down. It crumpled in her clenching fist.

“I don’t understand where this hostility is coming from,” Miss Wardwell said, looking as innocent as possible. It wasn’t very innocent in Zelda’s estimation. Her wide eyed act sickened her.

“You should not have told her about it,” she snapped, standing from the table, “she is too young.”

“She has been through her dark baptism,” the other woman said, as if that were enough.

“She is still a child,” Zelda said. 

“She handled herself fantastically,” the brunette woman said.

“Stay away from my niece,” Zelda snapped, stepping forward. 

She lent her hands on the table, bringing her face closer to the other woman’s. She ignored the way the icy blue eyes burned into her. She wanted this woman to know she had no power in her house, that she was the one in charge of the situation. She would not back down to this middle aged spinster. 

“Sabrina will do as she wishes,” the brunette said with little more than a shrug.

“You do not have to help her,” she hissed.

“I won’t let her stumble about trying things until something works out,” Miss Wardwell said, “she will come into far more danger without our help.”

Zelda’s hand snapped out, grasping the other woman by the throat. She forced her to stand, squeezing tighter at the amusement on the other woman’s face. She kept smiling at her, that self satisfied smirk, those eyes practically gleaming with unsounded laughter.

“Do not lecture me about my own family,” she hissed.

The brunette’s hand came up, grasping her wrist. Her fingers were cold against Zelda’s skin and she didn’t like the electricity she felt run up her spin. She held in a shudder, not wanting to admit any weakness to this infuriating woman. 

“Sabrina is 16 now,” Miss Wardwell said, “she has to learn.”

She didn’t sound as if she was uncomfortable, as if she was suffering. Zelda tightened her hand, pushing her back into the table. The other woman let out a breath, the back of her thighs digging into the wood.

“It is not up to you to decide what she does and does not learn,” Zelda snapped.

“I’m her teacher, am I not?” the other woman asked. 

She growled, her hand burying in the brunette hair, yanking her head back. The infuriating woman was actually smiling at her. Zelda wanted to wipe that grin off her face. She lent forward, forcing her lips to the brunette’s, biting down on those red painted lips. 

The other woman grabbed her hips, pulling her body against the shorter woman. She drew away, forcing the other woman to turn, pressing her against the table. Her hand in the brunette hair was yanking her back, arching her neck. She bit down on her pulse point, hard enough to draw blood. The brunette was chuckling, her hands pressing against the wooden tabletop. She pressed her body back against Zelda’s, making her growl low in her throat. 

Zelda reached round, grabbing at the shorter woman’s breast, roughly pawing it, just wanting her to shut up. With her head thrown back, her lips were close to Zelda’s ear. She could hear her purr as her fingers pinched at her nipple through the layers of fabric. 

“You can do better than that,” Miss Wardwell breathed in her ear. 

The brunette bit down on her earlobe and Zelda had to try and hold in the hiss of pleasure. She yanked on her hair, pulled her away. She spun the shorter woman again. She pulled herself up onto the table, wrapping her legs around Zelda’s waist, pulling her against her core. 

Zelda slid her hands up her smooth legs, rucking up the fabric of her dress. Miss Wardwell grabbed her hand, forcing it onto her throbbing cunt. Zelda tore her panties from her body, flinging them to the floor. She plunged her fingers into her heat, listening to the other woman let out a long moan.

She ground her palm against her clit, brutally hard. Her head was thrown back, making the most obscene noises Zelda had ever had the pleasure of hearing. She was pounding into her pussy, enjoying the flush on her skin and the way the grin had been wiped from her face. 

She withdrew her fingers from the brunette’s sopping entrance. She whined, a sound Zelda hadn’t been expecting from the other woman, but revelled in it. She began to circle her clit, featherlight and barely there. The shorter woman opened her eyes, glazed over with lust. She grabbed Zelda’s hand, her nails digging into the skin of her wrist. 

She snatched her hand away, leaving the other woman cold without her touch. Zelda stepped back, ignoring the way she made to grab her. Miss Wardwell’s eyes hardened. She slid a hand down her body, stopping at her breast to pinch at her own nipple, before continuing down her stomach. Zelda grabbed her hand, pinning it to the table.

“No,” Zelda said, pinning her other hand to the table to stop her before she could try again. 

She wrapped her legs around Zelda’s waist, pulling her close enough to grind herself against the taller woman. She stepped back, just out of reach, close enough to feel the heat rolling off the brunette woman. 

“Ask nicely,” Zelda said, wanting her to beg.

“Please,” Miss Wardwell said, sounding as if the words were being dragged from her.

Zelda smiled at her, waiting a beat before slamming her fingers back into her sopping cunt. She curled her fingers, watching as her breathing became heavier, her hips moving against her hand. She added another finger, stretching the other woman wide open. 

Her breathing was laboured and she was clutching at Zelda’s shoulders hard enough to leave bruises. The taller woman was sneering at her. With a twist and a curl the other woman’s internal muscles clamped around her fingers and she let out a long cry. 

She withdrew her fingers from Miss Wardwell, wiping her fingers on the teacher’s skirt. She turned on her heels, ignoring the breathless woman on the table. At the threshold she looked over her shoulder. The brunette was smiling that infuriating smile again, watching her with a fire burning behind her eyes.

“Get out of my house,” Zelda said, “and stay away from my niece.”

She left the woman in the kitchen, feeling as if she hadn’t come out on top of that encounter. Undoubtably, she’d have another chance later in the week. She ignored the warmth spreading through her body at the thought.


	2. Hellfire (Lilith/Reader)

You hadn’t realised how much physical appearance effected you. If anyone had asked, you would have told them Mary Wardwell was beautiful. And then she’d appeared to you after that make over and you’d genuinely believed the breath had been stolen from you. 

You’d spent so much time with Mary, going to her every time you had a question about witches and the witch trials. You thought you knew everything about her. She was your closest friend in town. You were used to the two of you sharing a meal, or going to a showing at the cinema. You hadn’t realised it, but slowly you’d fallen in love with her, so completely sometimes it hurt to think about.

You were standing behind the counter at the bookstore, leaning against the counter taking someone’s order. The door had opened, the bell jingling. You glanced up then back down, then back up again.

Mary was walking towards you, hips swaying in a skin tight dress. Painted red lips and voluminous hair, her ice blue eyes trained on you, a smirk on her lips. You felt the heart stop in your chest and the breath catch in your throat. You knew you were gaping at her.

She placed her finger under your chin, closing your mouth for you. Her skin was so warm against your skin, so soft, and you gulped. The mirth in her eyes was captivating, so at odds with what you were used to with her. You were used to sharing a quiet chuckle over a book but this was something else. This was something more.

“Can I get a milkshake?” she asked, her hand leaving your face.

“Strawberry?” you asked, already turning away to make it. You needed a moment.

You glanced over, looking for the nod you knew would come. She winked at you, walking away to one of the booths. Your heart stuttered and you had to let out a long breath. Your face was too hot and your skin was too tight. You tried to ignore the image of her hips swaying as she walked away from you. You needed a cold shower.

You walked over, carrying the cold milkshake and set it in front of her carefully. She looked up at you, smiling at you like the devil. You shifted from foot to foot. 

“Trying something new, Mary?” you asked

“Yes, I thought it was time for a change,” she said, flicking her hair off her face. 

“Well, it looks great, very…” you trailed off, not really sure what you were going to say. You nodded and turned on your heels, feeling as if you had fucked that up. You stopped after a step and turned back around, leaning your hip against the table. She looked up expectantly, wrapping her lips around her straw and sucking. You gulped.

“My friend sent me this book the other week and I have a few questions,” you said, “would it be alright if I came round later?”

“That would be,” she dragged her eyes down your body then back up to your face, “most acceptable.”

“Great.”

You turned back to the counter, your knees wobbly and your heart thudding loud in your ears. You tried to stop looking over to her booth. Each time you did your heart would skip a beat and you’d have to fan yourself to try and get yourself through the rest of your shift. 

She waved to you when she left and you let out a long sigh. You went over to pick up the empty glass, looking at the ring of lipstick around the straw. You’d never seen her wear lipstick before. Now it was all you could think about it. You wanted to smear it.

You counted the seconds, feeling more antsy than you ever had before. You were used to looking forward to seeing Mary, but this was different. This was like you were a horny teenager again. The change of appearance shouldn’t have mattered, she was still the same old Mary, still your friend. 

But there was something about her… a newfound confidence… nothing you’d seen from her before…

You liked it.

You rushed out of there the minute your shift was over, waving goodbye to Dr Cerberus. You hurried home, wanting to change out of the stupid costume you had to wear every day. You stopped to pick up the book you’d been sent, the post it notes sticking out of it haphazardly. You weren’t sure you wanted to spend the night discussing witch hunts, but if you got to spend some alone time with Mary while she looked like that, you supposed it would be worth it. 

You sped towards Mary’s house on the outskirts of town. You slammed the car door closed, feeling the bite in the air. The weather was turning with the season, and looking up at the overcast sky reminded you of why you loved this time of year. You shuddered, walking up to the front door.

You knocked, waiting for your friend to answer the door. You shifted from foot to foot, your fingers tightening on the book in your hands. The door was flung open, Mary standing there, glasses in place. You smiled at her, feeling a little like you were behind the times again. She was acting the way she usually did, wary and nervous, but she was still dressed like she was earlier. It was an odd combination. 

“Is this a bad time?” you asked, not wanting to bother her.

“No, come in, come in,” she said, standing back to let you in.

You stepped past her, close enough to feel the heat emanating off her body. For the first time you realised she’d changed her perfume, something earthy and sexy. You gulped again, turning in the familiar living room to watch her close the door. She slipped her glasses from her face and you froze, a deer caught in the headlights. She advanced on you, her steps like a predator about to pounce on its prey. Her hips were swaying and she was smirking and you were sure you’d never breath normally again.

“What do you have there?” she asked, her eyes darting down to your hands.

She plucking it from your grasp, flicking through the pages. You watched her, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. She scoffed, tossing it onto one of her chairs. Her eyes met yours and your fingers clenched against the empty air the book had previously occupied.

“It’s not true,” she said, her eyes so intense you thought you might get freezer burn.

“What isn’t?” you breathed.

“The Greendale 13 were not tried because of the patriarchy,” she said, “the other witches of Greendale outed them and let them take the fall.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. Nothing of the sort had come up in previous discussions from her, nothing to suggest witches were real. You opened your mouth to argue but she placed her finger over your lips and you got another lung full of her perfume. The words died before they could even begin.

She stepped closer, close enough to feel all the heat radiating off her. Her eyes were darting over your face, never resting anywhere for longer than a second. Her finger had dropped back to her side.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know,” you said.

“What?” She sounded taken aback, as if you were not following the prearranged script.

“You look gorgeous, but you’ve always been beautiful,” you said, “if you’re doing this because of all the rest of them you don’t have to. You’ll always be beautiful.”

She grasped your face, pulling you forward. Her lips were so insistent against yours, consuming you with hellfire. You couldn’t believe this was happened, actually happening in real life. You were burning up. If the room had spontaneously combusted you wouldn’t have been surprised. 

Her hands were like claws, pressing into you hard. Your hands were on her waist, feeling the silken material of her sinful dress under your fingertips. You couldn’t believe this was happening. Her hands were leaving bruises on your skin and you were gasping for breath. You felt your blood boiling beneath your skin and you thought your body might turn to ash at any moment.

She drew back, her eyes flashing. You were gasping for breath, no longer able to focus on her. She was smiling, her lipstick still perfect. You tightened your hold on her waist.

She tutted, pushing your hands off her body. You think you might have whined but you were so far gone you couldn’t be sure. She pushed you back. You stumbled a step, tripping over your own foot. Her hands landed on your shoulders, steadying you. You grasped her wrist, not sure if you were going to try to push her off you or pull her closer. Both felt like a sin. 

She walked you backwards a few steps, your back thumping against the far wall. The breath fled from your lungs and you gulped. She trailed her finger down your neck. You’d never felt so hot in all your life. Her skin was so cold as she ran her thumb over your collar bone. 

“Mary,” you moaned.

Her nails scraped across your skins and your head fell back against the wall. You could not get enough air into your lungs. You were dying, you were sure of it. This woman was going to kill you from sexual tension.

She pushed her body against yours, her thigh pressing between yours. You made a keening noise you would have been embarrassed about in any normal circumstance, but these wasn’t normal circumstances. She kissed you again, long and hot enough for you to burst into flames. 

She pressed her thigh against your hot core and you couldn’t stop the low moan falling from your lips. She bit down on your lower lip and you could taste blood. You wouldn’t have taken her for someone who would enjoy that kind of thing but you were enjoying it. 

Her fingernails dug into your skin as she brought her hand down to your breast. You arched your back into her touch as she squeezed. Your hips rutted against her leg and you could feel her grin against your lips. She pulled your shirt over your head, leaving your skin to feel the warm air of her living room. 

Her fingers trailed over the exposed skin of your stomach. You shuddered, your breath catching in your throat. She tore the bra from your body, letting your breasts bounce free. Her thumb ran over one of your nipples and your head fell back on the wall with a gasp.

She pinched your nipple, hard enough to draw a hiss from you. Your hands buried in her hair, pulling her into a searing kiss. She ran her nails over your other nipple and you felt your knees tremble. The fires of hell flickered over your skin, hot enough to destroy you, delicious enough for you to want to submit to the flames. 

Her hands fell to the waistband of your jeans. She popped the button open, slipping her fingers inside. Her fingers trailed over the fabric of your underwear. You shuddered. She bit down on your bottom lip again, drawing a moan from you. You could hear her chuckling. She was the devil incarnate, and you would sell your soul to her for the pleasure she brought you.

She grabbed your pants, sliding down your body until they were pushed around your ankles. You looked down at her, watching as she lifted one foot after another, pulling the material from your body. She looked up at you from under her lashes, flipping her hair off her face.

She lifted one of your legs over her shoulder and licked up your slit. Your eyes closed and you moaned, low in your throat. Her tongue was like sin, lapping at your entrance. You needed her, more than you needed air. 

Her lips wrapped around your clit and you cried out, your fingers tangling in her hair once more. You couldn’t stop your hips from rolling against her mouth. Your breathing became erratic as the pressure built in your lower stomach. 

Your fingers tightened in her hair, scrunched in your tight fists. Your hips were bucking against her mouth, out of time with her tongue. You needed more, your peak drawing closer. Her tongue was deliciously wicked against your folds. You were gasping and whining, no longer in control of yourself. 

You cried out, your legs trembling as she sucked on your clit. You could feel the coiling pleasure in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Your toes were curling and you felt breathless, as if you were burning up from the inside out. 

The dam broke, the wave of pleasure crashing down around you. Your body went rigid as you succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your blood. You were only kept up by her hands pushing you against the wall. 

As you came down from your high, your breathing beginning to return to normal, you looked down. Mary was smirking at you, her hair still clutched in your fist. You loosened your fingers, letting the soft strands slip through your fingers. Her nails scraped down your leg as she dropped them from her hold on you.

She stood, wiping your juices from her chin on the back of her hand. You took a shaky breath, pressing your palms against the wall to steady yourself. You still felt a little light headed. 

“Wow,” you breathed.

She blinked at you, long and slow like a cat. She turned away from you, sauntering away from you. Your eyes dropped to her swaying ass and you felt your skin flush again. You bit down on your lip.

“Do you want to stay for tea?” she asked, looking at you over her shoulder.

You shuddered at the fire behind her eyes. You gulped and nodded. You bent to pick up your trousers, pulling them on. You looked around for your bra and shirt. A warm hand touched your arm. You started, having not heard Mary walk towards you. She handed you your bra and you put it back on. 

She poured you a cup of tea as you sat across from her. Her fingers lingered against yours as she passed you the cup. Your breath caught in your throat. You couldn’t understand the reaction to her. She was driving you crazy.

“What was that?” you asked.

“Were you not paying attention?” That fucking smirk again.

You took a drink from your cup trying to cover the blush rising in your cheeks.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” you said.

She looked at you over the rim of her cup, her eyes sparkling. You looked down at the liquid in your own cup, contemplating the dark liquid within. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” Mary said, breaking into your thoughts.

“Really?” you asked, looking up at her again.

She smiled in response, the same smile you’d fallen in love with over and over again. You bit your lip, putting the cup down on the table between the two of you. You held out your hand to her.

“C’mon,” you said.

She put her hand in yours, looking bemused. You pulled her up, taking a step backwards.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“To your bedroom,” you replied.

“Why?” she asked, a smirk firmly in place.

“To return the favour.”


	3. In Control (Madam Spellman)

Zelda’s breathy moans filled the room. All that mattered to her was the pleasure building within her with each thrust. She couldn’t stop the flush rising on her cheek, her breath fast and uneven. 

Sabrina’s busybody of a teacher had shown up at the house with the flimsy excuse of a borrowed book. Zelda had tried to ignore her, focusing on her paper and the baby. She hadn’t liked it, sitting by Zelda, making just enough noise to be a bother to her. 

She hadn’t meant to do it. Or at least that’s what she told herself. It had been one sigh too many, one too many rustled skirt. Zelda had just put the baby down to sleep, was trying to catch up on the news from Russia. She’d huffed, slammed the paper down, taking a shape inhalation of breath to tell her off.

But that damned woman had been smirking at her. All she’d wanted to do was wipe that smirk off her face. 

Zelda had grabbed her by the shoulder, hauling her up. Up until the moment she’d kissed her she hadn’t known what she was going to do. Throw her out of the house maybe. But she’d kissed her instead, harsh and controlling. That’s all that mattered. Being in control.

That woman, that damned woman, had responded enthusiastically, almost too enthusiastically, making Zelda wonder what was really going on there. It made her feel out of control, so she’d bitten down on the other woman’s bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood, hard enough to draw a hiss from the shorter woman.

She’d pushed her back down onto the sofa, sitting on top of her. She’d grabbed her hands pinning them to her side. She’d dug her nails into her skin hard enough to leave marks on her body. She’d wanted to leave marks on her body.

She’d palmed her breast, rough and uncaring, pinching at her nipple through the layers of material. The other woman had arched her back, moaning like she was in a porno. Zelda snarled, drawing back. Her perfect lipstick was smeared over her face and her eyes were sparkling with mirth. 

She’d felt the fury growing in her. All the wanted was to take this woman down a peg, to show her she wasn’t in control of everything. That she wasn’t in control of her. 

She’d shoved her hand up the skin tight skirt, rucking it up for easy access. She pressed a hand to her covered centre, feeling the heat against the skin of her fingers. 

She felt the brunette’s hands land on her shoulders, pushing her off her lap. She fell to the ground with a thump, the breath whooshing out of her. The other woman smiled down at her, sly, as if she knew something Zelda didn’t.

She growled, low in her throat, pushing herself into a sitting position. Before she could get up the other woman was straddling her, pinning her hands above her head. She was leaning down, her teeth scraping against the skin of her neck. She couldn’t stop the pulse of pleasure in her stomach or the throb begin between her legs. It had been so long since she’d had a good fuck.

A finger pressed against her core, hard and insistent. She gasped, arching off the floor. A hand pressed her back down, ice blue eyes staring down at her. She tried to feel the same fire of anger but the finger had begun to circle over her underwear. 

The finger slid through her folds, tapping against her clit. Her hips jerked up, control slipping through her fingers. The finger circled over her clit, never quite touching, featherlight and insubstantial. Zelda could feel herself begin to pant. 

She could hear the other woman chuckle, the infuriating being that she was. Her thumb pressed down on her sensitive bundle of nerves and her back arched up off the floor. She whined when the pressure was removed, cut off abruptly when a finger pressed against her entrance.

It was harsh, the thrusts. The brunette was stretching her, filling her, each one hitting a spot inside of her she hadn’t realised anyone but her would be able to find. She couldn’t stop the pleasure building in her, the coil tightening, the wave growing.

Her legs were trembling and the other woman had latched onto her neck. She couldn’t stop the whining noise as she drew closer to her peak. The other woman infuriated her, pushed all her buttons. Maybe that’s why this was so easy, falling into this woman’s games. Every time. 

And every time she ended up on her back, the brunette’s fingers deep inside her. 

Zelda came with little more than a gasp. Her body went rigid, her muscles straining as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her body. And all the while she stared up into bright blue eyes and a wicked smile. 

Next time. Next time she would be the one in control. Next time she would be the one smiling.


	4. Deserved (Zelda/Reader)

Sometimes it felt as if you were dying. It was as if you were burning up from the inside out, the air disappearing from your lungs, your body so strung out all that was left was for it to collapse. 

Right now was one of those moments.

Zelda had been teasing you all day. Lingering looks, barely there touches, ignoring you until you were practically whining for her attention. She loved to wind you up all day then pounce on you the minute you were sure she was going to leave you hanging. 

She’d followed you outside, giving you time enough to settle in the chair on the porch, your tea clutched in your hands. You needed to get out of the stifling atmosphere of the house. Everything had felt too close in there, like there wasn’t enough oxygen for you.

Hearing her step outside, her heels on the wood, you knew she was trying to torture you. You were staring out over the graveyard, trying to calm yourself enough to rejoin the family. You could physically feel her presence, like it was pushing against you, demanding your attention. 

It wasn’t until her hand trailed down your neck, her skin cold against the flush creeping up skin, that you bothered to look at her. You were unable to tear your eyes away from her face, feeling as if she was in control of your body. You’d do anything she asked you.

“It’s getting cold out here,” she said, her voice gravelly. 

You shivered. Her fingers were stroking over your skin, her nails scraping tracks you would feel long after they were gone. She lowered her face, bringing it closer to yours. You stopped breathing.

“You need some warming up.”

Your heart stopped. Her hand tightened on you, her fingers digging into your shoulder. She took the mug of tea from your hands, setting it to one side. You bit down on your lower lip, watching her gaze flicker down to it then back up. Her eyes were smouldering.

She lent down, pressing her lips to the underside of your jaw. You took a jagged breath in, your fingers tightening on the armrests. Your head tilted, giving her easier access to your skin, a low moan in your throat. You felt her chuckle. 

She drew back and you whined, wanting more. She ran her thumb over the mark she’d made on your skin and you shuddered. Her hand travelled further down. Your back arched into her touch and she smirked at you. Her thumb passed over your nipple and your breath caught in your throat.

“You must still be cold,” she said, pinching your nipple between her fingers.

You made a keening noise, your head falling back against the chair. You felt her move to stand behind you, her other hand landing on your thigh. You tried to shift closer to her but she made a tutting noise, stopping you in your tracks. 

Her nails dug into your skin, drawing a hiss from you. Her nose skimmed over your jaw as she began to roll your nippled between her fingers. You were already a gasping mess.

Her fingers trailed up your leg, stopping close to where you wanted her the most. You whined, your back arching into her touch, your head thrown back, your legs parting for her. Her index finger ghosted over your material covered heat, barely there. You had to work hard not to buck against her touch. It would be worse for you if you did.

“Are you going to be good for me?” she asked as her finger passed over your throbbing core again.

You nodded, unable to talk. She chuckled low in your ear as her finger pressed down on your clit. You gasped, a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. Your hands tightened on the armrests of your chair.

She pushed your panties to the side, running her finger through your folds. You bit down on your lip, trying to stay quiet, lest the rest of the family heard you. She began to circle your clit, slow and tortuous, drawing a high keen from you. She bit down on your pulse point.

“Fuck,” you hissed.

She slipped her finger into you without warning, grinding her palm against your bundle of nerves. You cried out, your hips bucking. She stilled her hand, tutting in your ear. You whimpered, moaning apologies, throwing your head back, desperate for her touch. She bit down on your earlobe, tugging on it. 

“You don’t deserve this,” she growled.

“Please,” you moaned, “please.”

She slammed her fingers into you. You cried out, your fingers tightening again. She set a brutal pace, her teeth sinking into your skin, drawing moans and breathy pleas from you. You wanted to tangle your fingers in her hair, to tug on it, to wrap yourself in her body. 

The coil within you tightened, your body vibrating with want. You were gasping, your high in reach. Her palm was grinding against your clit, her fingers curling inside you, your body crying out for more. You were pleading her, asking for more, promising your life away for your release.

A sudden coldness overtook your body. She removed her hands from you, stepping back from you, leaving you wanting. You made a high keening noise, your hands reaching back towards her but she easily stepped away from you. She slapped your hands away when you tried reaching for her again.

“This is your punishment,” she said, stepping towards the door, “finish your tea and think about what you did.”

You clenched your thighs, the throbbing almost painful. She waited, watching until you picked up your mug of almost cold tea. You took a sip, wanting to please her, hoping she would come back, hoping she would touch you again. When you looked up, she was gone.

You let out a long, shuddering breath. Your body was on high alert, thrumming, waiting. You took a long drink from your tea, ignoring how cold it was, trying to tamp down your need. You deserved this punishment. You deserved this.


	5. Hellfire Part 2 (Lilith/Reader)

You’d only seen Mary’s room once since your arrival in the town. It had been brief, little more than a glance when she’d asked you to retrieve a book from her nightstand while she started a fire in the hearth downstairs. But even from that glance you could tell that the room had changed significantly in the time that had passed. 

The cold air away from the fire puckered your exposed skin. Your shirt, forgotten downstairs, was lost from your mind as Mary’s fingers trailed over your shoulder when you’d stopped in the doorway. You turned towards her, watching the way the fire behind her eyes flared to life. A smirk was firmly in place on her face and you shivered, suddenly feeling self conscious. It had been a while since you’d been with a woman.

You lent forward, kissing her, messy and a little too eager. You pushed your fingers into her hair, feeling the way it tangled around you, trapping you. She bit down on your lower lip, hard enough to draw blood once again. Her fingers were digging into the flesh of your hips, most likely leaving bruises.

You pressed your free hand to her lower back, pushed her body against yours. She was so hot against you, almost burning your skin. You’d let her turn you to ash. 

You trailed your lips to her neck, nipping at the skin at her jaw. She chuckled, more amused than turned on. It was frustrating, given the height she had brought you to. All you wanted was to show her the same pleasure, to measure up, to be memorable. 

You sucked on her pulse point, tugging her head to the side with the hand still buried in her hair. Her fingers tightened on you, her nails painfully digging into your skin. You brought your other hand up, looking for the zip on her dress. You wanted to see her, all of her. You kept fantasising about tracing your tongue over her exposed skin. 

You slid the zip down, your fingers trailing over her spine. She shivered, her hands twitching. You kissed her again as you began to push her dress off her shoulders. She helped you, pulling it off, leaving her in just her underwear and bra. You trailed your fingers down her arm, interlacing your fingers as you stepped back to look at her for the first time.

You’d never seen anyone as beautiful as this woman standing in front of you. Her skin was so pale in the light from the moon, practically glowing. You bit down on your lip, your eyes tracing over her curves, the red of her lingerie. Her long legs, so often hidden from sight, made you practically drool with lust. She kicked her heels off.

You looked down at her, feeling as if you were watching something from not of this world staring back. She was looking at you as if she wanted to devour you. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you said, the reverence coming through in your voice. You’d be embarrassed by it if you weren’t so wrapped up in the thoughts of what you were going to do with her body. 

Something in her face looked confused, as if she wasn’t sure about herself. You cupped her cheek, drawing her into another kiss, this one softer and sweeter than any that night. You wanted her to know how important she was to you, how you felt. She deserved to know how you felt.

She took control, tugging on your lower lip, her hands grabbing your ass. She pushed your hips against hers and you shivered at the feeling of of her bare skin against yours. She felt as if she had a fever, everything too hot, burning brighter than anything you were used to. 

You drew away from her, pushing her hair off her face to better look her in the eyes. They were sparkling at you but her mouth was set in a harsh line. You trailed your hand down her neck, running over her collarbone. She slowly blinked at you. 

“You’re the reason I’ve stayed in this town so long,” you said, “I just thought you should know that.”

She kissed you, desperate and intense. You gasped, feeling as you were drowning under the heat of her passion. You brought your hand up, cupping her breast, your thumb ghosting over her nipple. She hissed.

You swiped your thumb over her nipple again. You could feel it begin to harden through the material of her bra. You turned her, pushing her down on the bed. You crawled over her, trailing your lips down her throat and towards her collarbone. You scraped your teeth over the skin covered bone. You’d spent too much time considering this exact act to be healthy.

You continued to trail your lips down, stopping to suck at the skin over her beating heart. You could feel the fire coursing through your veins as she squirmed beneath you, her fingers tangling in your hair. You closed your lips around one of her hardened nubs, pinching the other between thumb and forefinger. Her back arched off the bed.

“Stop teasing,” she hissed, her fingers tightening in your hair. You shuddered, sucking on her hardened nipple. 

“You mean like you did?” you asked, leaning away from her. 

You reached behind her, unclasping her bra and throwing it over your shoulder. You leant down, your fingers skimming over the soft skin, your mouth kissing between her breasts. She was breathing heavily and when you looked up she was watching you with burning eyes.

You let your mouth continue down, your tongue swirling over her skin, tasting her in ways you’d once dreamed of. You felt as the muscles in her stomach tightened, drawing lower and lower, craving her heat. Her hips lifted, asking for attention.

You nipped at her hip bone, enjoying the way she moaned loud enough to fill the silence. You sucked a dark mark into her pale skin, wanting her to think of you the next few days as she dressed, remember the way you’d made her feel. You wanted your mark to be left on her.

“Just fuck me already.”

You looked up at her, loving the way her cheeks were flushed and her pupils blown wide. You weren’t used to hearing swear words cross over her lips, and there was something so deliciously hellish about it. It made you want to listen to her curse for the rest of your days.

“As you wish,” you replied and put your mouth over her material covered core.

Her hips jerked up and you pinned them down to the mattress. You could taste her through her underwear. Her nails scraped against your scalp, her fingers pulling at your hair hard enough to draw tears. You hooked your fingers in the waistband of her underwear and pulled them down her stupidly long legs. 

You ran your nose along the soft skin of her inner thigh, breathing in deeply. You could die with her scent in your nostrils, wrapping around you, sinking into you. Her fingers tightened again and you hissed.

You brought your mouth to her, dragging your tongue up her slit. She shuddered beneath your touch. You lifted one of her legs, placing it over your shoulder. Your nose pressed against her bundle of nerves, earning you a hiss as you plunged your tongue into her. Her heel pressed between your shoulder blades, drawing you in closer.

You swirled your tongue around her clit, not touching her where she wanted you most. You listened to her high keen as you kept from touching her, wanting her to ask, to beg, to show any indication she wanted you as desperately as you wanted her. 

“Mary,” you breathed, wanting her to look at you.

Her eyes snapped to yours, electric and hot. Her eyes were so dark, smouldering as you wrapped your lips around her sensitive bud. Her hips bucked into your mouth. You pinned them back to the mattress, pressing your tongue flat against her clit. You hummed, feeling her squirm against you.

You ran your finger through her folds, gathering the wetness on your skin. You pressed it to her entrance, waiting as she moaned above you, your tongue pressing more insistently against her. 

“You’re teasing again.”

You pushed your finger inside her, taking your mouth from her. You harshly ground your palm against her clit, sitting back to watch the pleasure pass over her face. Her mouth fell open, her eyes closing involuntarily as you curled your finger within her. 

You slipped another finger in her, beginning to stretch her. She gasped out your name, so loud in the quiet room. You felt your skin flush in pleasure, part of you unable to believe you were the one doing this to her. She’d never been more beautiful. You’d never wanted her more. 

“More,” she moaned, one of her hands wrapping around your wrist.

You slipped another finger into her, increasing the pace until it was almost brutal. Her fingernails dug into the skin of your wrist as you ground your palm against her clit, your fingers curling within her. She was panting, her eyes squeezing shut. You lent towards her, close enough for your breath to fan over her face.

“Mary,” you said, your hand stilling until her eyes fluttered open again.

You slammed your fingers back into her as you kissed her, long and sweet, wanting to possess every part of her. You wanted her to remember this for a long time, to remember you. She was all you wanted.

She came with a sharp intake of breath, her muscles contracting around your fingers. You pressed a kiss to the underside of her jaw as you rode her through her orgasm . Her fingers scrabbled against your shoulder as her hips snapped against you, her breathing little more than sharp gasps.

You took your fingers from her, popping them in your mouth to keep the taste of her on your tongue. She watched you suck her juices from your hand, her eyes already darkening again.

“That was rather illuminating,” she said, her eyes burning over your skin. 

For the first time you noticed the flickering light playing over her skin. You looked over your shoulder at the fireplace, seeing the flames consuming the logs. You turned back to her, your bottom lip between your teeth. You didn’t understand.

“I suppose there’s something you should know,” she said, that glint in her eye as addictive as always.

“I suppose there is,” you said, “but it can wait.”

“Can it?” she asked.

You kissed her again in answer. You didn’t particularly care what the answer was, a niggling in the back of your mind already telling you what you suspected. Her fingers grasped your chin in a way that was becoming familiar. You didn’t care because you’d do anything to be with her. You would live with anything if it meant loving her for the rest of your life, however long that might be.


	6. A Hot Winter Day (Zelda/Reader/Lilith)

You weren’t sure how it had started. A lingering touch here, brief moments of eye contact there. You hadn’t made a conscious decision to do anything until you were too far in. You hadn’t known anything could be like this; so satisfying, so electric, so perfect for you. 

You had to assume they had talked before hand, because the way they’d drawn you in was so perfectly executed. They must have had a battle plan as no two people could have been as in sync as they had been. You’d never stood a chance.

It had been one of those winter days you loved so much. You’d been in the kitchen of the Spellman’s house, spending time with Hilda in the lead up to Christmas. She’d been teaching you some of her baking tricks. Your sister-in-law always wanted to turn family celebrations into a competition and you’d grown tired of the snide comments on your lacklustre shortbread. You’d called in the big guns.

But you’d been left alone. The smell of the baked cookies were wafting through the house and Hilda had left for her shift at the bookshop. You’d settled at the table, thinking back on the lesson, trying to commit it to memory before it faded away. 

A hand on your shoulder had startled you, your eyes snapping open. The cold grey eyes of Mary Wardwell were staring down at you, her brow furrowed in what you would come to recognise as mock concern. You tensed, unable to unlock your muscles from under her touch.

“Is everything okay?” she asked. You shivered.

“Yup, just getting ready to clear out. Kitchen is all yours.”

You stood up too fast, the chair falling to the floor with a clatter. Mary raised an eyebrow at it before bending to pick it up. You gulped, averting your eyes from her body. You’d let them wander one too many times and you didn’t want to get caught. 

“What’s all this noise?” a voice asked from the doorway. 

You looked over, any answer dying on your lips before it could begin. You hadn’t thought Zelda was home, and if you had you would have thought she would be too busy with the business to ever be bothered by you. 

“A startled girl with a proclivity for clumsiness,” Mary replied, her breath fanning over the back of your neck. You hadn’t realised she’d gotten so close to you. 

“Does she know what happens when clumsy girls interrupt my work?” Zelda asked. 

You could tell you’d stopped breathing but you couldn’t get your lungs to listen to you. You felt your skin flush and you wanted to run. Your feet were stuck to the floor.

“We may have to show her,” Mary breathed in your ear, moving past you to stand beside Zelda. You shuddered. 

Zelda took one of those self possessed steps towards you, confidence in the sway of her hips, the quirk at the corner of her lips. Your tongue darted out, wetting your lips. Her eyes darkened. You gulped.

“Naughty girl,” she purred. 

You took a step back, colliding with the edge of the table. You flicked your eyes over her shoulder, watching as Mary smiled at you, taking her own step forward. 

A hand grasped your chin, turning your attention back to Zelda. Her eyes were dark, searing your skin wherever they touched. She lent forward, her breath fanning over your face, smelling like the cigarettes you’d watched her smoke time and time again. How you’d envied those cigarettes. 

“Zelda,” you breathed, hoping to return her sense to her, hoping she would devour you.

“Naughty girls must be punished,” was the only response you got.

Her kiss was less of a kiss and more of a domination of your will. You submitted, your arms wrapping around her neck, trying to draw her closer. You would have been embarrassed by your wantonness if you hadn’t dreamt of this moment for so long. 

A cold hand snaked around your neck, fingers squeezing hard enough to leave lasting bruises. You gasped, breaking from the kiss, momentary panic alighting every nerve ending. You followed the arm up to Mary, her eyes cold enough to burn. She was grinning. Her fingers squeezed harder and you realised how little breath you had. You grasped her wrist.

Another set of hands pried yours away, pinning them to the table behind you, a warm mouth closing over your earlobe, teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh. Mary lent forward, her bright red lips taunting you. You thought you might pass out from the sheer intensity of the moment. 

“Naughty girls don’t get to touch,” Zelda whispered, letting your hands go. You whimpered.

With a final squeeze Mary released you, replacing her hand with her lips, biting down on your neck hard enough for you to cry out. Zelda shoved you back further, making you climb onto the table, sit there, legs parted, letting them control you as if you were their doll. 

A hand squeezed your breast but you were too far gone to notice who’s. You closed your eyes, squeezing them tight, still not believing this moment was actually happening. The only two women in the entire town you’d spent hours fantasising about, your own fingers having to do when you knew theirs weren’t available, and they were now taking you apart with every breath.

Your nipple was pinched from behind all the layers of clothing you still wore. You whined, arching your back into the touch. Next thing you knew a searing pain was flashing over your cheeks. You opened your eyes, looking up at the two women, Zelda’s hand raised as if waiting for another reason to slap you.

“Naughty girls stay silent,” she said, “unless told otherwise.”

You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip. The hand returned to your breast and your eyes fluttered closed again. The pleasure mixed with the pain was enough for you to be thoroughly soaked. You needed them in ways you’d never felt before. You felt as if you were going to explode from it.

A set of teeth bit down on the point your neck met your shoulder. You stifled a gasp, not wanting to break one of their rules. You were sure that punishment would be worse than the one you were currently facing. You felt a hand grab the hem of your shirt, tugging on it. You lifted your arms when required earning another tweak to your nipple. You shuddered. 

Your bra was quickly disposed off, your bare skin puckering in the cool air. You watched as Zelda returned her ministrations to your breasts, rolling your nipples between her fingers. Mary’s fingers were trailing down your stomach, running along the waistband of your jeans. You were biting down on your lip so hard you could taste the blood in your mouth, doing all you could to not make a single noise. 

“Good girl,” Zelda said, pinching one of your nippled hard enough for your hips to involuntary rut forward. 

Mary tutted, her fingers dipping below your waistband as she bit down on your skin again. Zelda bit down on the other side of your neck. You threw your head back, your body thrumming. You squeezed your legs together, trying to get some of the friction you were desperate for.

Mary’s roughly shoved her hand down you trousers and your traitorous legs parted for her as she cupped your heat through your underwear. She chuckled against your skin, leaving sloppy kisses over your shoulder.

“Someone is so wet,” she said.

Zelda let her hand run down your body, pushing past Mary’s to touch you. Her eyes lighted up at the wet material under her fingers and she lazily stroked you. You tried to focus on your breathing, straining against the restrictions she had put in place. 

She grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her, the amusement dancing in her eyes. She ran her thumb over your bottom lip, smearing your blood on your skin.

“Are you going to be good for us?” she asked, stroking you again.

You nodded, your eyes slipping shut. She squeezed your chin hard enough to leave a dull throb behind and you looked at her again.

“Naughty girls watch their punishment,” she said, her finger slipping under the material of your underwear to trace through your folds, gathering your wetness as she went. She stopped before reaching your clit and hummed. 

Mary slipped her hand past your underwear, her fingers so cold where Zelda’s were so warm. You jumped, startled by the feel of her on the hottest part of your body. There was something so delicious about the contrast on your skin. 

A cold finger began to circle your bundle of nerves, never quite touching you. Zelda kept her eye on you as she pressed a warm finger to your entrance. Your hips jutted forward as a cold finger ghosted over your clit. Her eyes hardened.

“Naughty girls stay still,” she said, her finger disappearing from you. 

Mary harshly pressed down on your bundle of nerves and it took all your willpower not to cry out. Zelda was watching you, her arms crossed in front of her body. You flushed under her scrutinising gaze, wanting to please her so desperately. You looked to Mary, smiling at you, her finger rubbing circles over your clit. 

Your panting breath was so loud in the now silent kitchen. You had to hope it was okay, that it wasn’t breaking the silence rule. You couldn’t help it. You had no control over your lungs.

Zelda stepped forward again, her hand disappearing back into your trousers. She pressed her finger to your entrance once again, waiting for Mary to leave your clit alone. She pushed in, not giving you time to think about it before another, much colder finger joined hers. Your fingers curled into the wood of the bench, splinters digging in to the vulnerable skin under your nails. 

A palm ground against your clit and your legs fell wider open, wanton and desperate. Your body was taut, hanging on, trying to show no outward sign of the pleasure building inside you. A stinging slap landed on your cheek again, punishing you for opening your legs to the woman. It sent a throb through your core.

“Interesting,” Zelda hummed, running a finger along your reddened cheek.

Mary brought her other free hand up, closing her fingers around your neck. Her nails dug into your skin and you felt her squeeze, it becoming difficult to breath. Your core throbbed again.

Both fingers slipped from within you before slamming in again, the palm continuing the harsh grounding against your clit. They did it again, their fingers curling within you this time. You could feel your legs shaking, every part of you straining towards the two women controlling your body. 

One palm was replaced with the other and a third finger was slipping into you. You were past the point of noticing whose. Your fingers hurt from how tightly you were keeping them in place. If they stopped now you might die. 

The pace they set was brutal, and all you wanted was to moan, to pull them closer, to cum. You felt as the crescendo drew nearer, each thrust of their fingers pulling it towards you. You were watching them, the detached look on Zelda’s face, the amusement on Mary’s. Both were watching you with smouldering eyes. 

With a curl of their fingers you felt it. You were standing on the precipice, waiting to go over. The wave was at its height, waiting for gravity to claim it, to send it crashing down around you. You bit down on your lip again, blood filling your mouth. You must have looked half wild to them. Mary was chuckling again.

“Come for us, pretty girl,” Zelda said, her voice little more than a purr.

You cried out as the wave crashed around you, pleasure coursing through your veins so thoroughly you couldn’t remember a time you didn’t feel like this. You vision went black, or you may have closed your eyes, you couldn’t tell. The hand around your neck tightened, cutting off your breath. You were left in silence. 

As you come down from your high Mary’s hand left your neck. Your breathing was ragged and your throat hurt. You were sure you were going to have bruises not easily explained away. 

“What did I say about staying silent?” Zelda asked.

You opened your eyes, looking at her. You would have shrunk back from the look in her eyes if you weren’t sure that would only bring you more punishment. 

Zelda pressed her finger to your lips and you opened your mouth. You could taste yourself on her skin and you lapped at your juices, cleaning her from the mess you’d made. Mary’s fingers joined her’s, her skin still so cold despite being buried deep in your heat. 

Zelda pulled her fingers from your mouth and bent down, flinging your shirt at you. Mary scraped her nails over your cheek before retreating too, her eyes studying you.

“Leave,” Zelda said.

You looked at her, not comprehending what she wanted from you. She watched you, arms folded, dark look in her eyes. Your eyes darted to Mary who inclined her head to the side, studying you.

“Are you deaf, or just stupid?” Zelda asked, “I gave you an instruction.”

You hastily pulled your shirt over your head and slid from the table onto wobbly legs. You took a step, ready to move past her but she put her hand on your shoulder.

“We’ll let you know when your next punishment will be,” she said.

You hurried past her, not wanting to consider the possibility of this happening again. It felt too much like a dream come true. The door closed with a quiet click behind you and you almost ran off into the cold winter day. The air was nice against the flush of your skin left from their touch. 

But happen again it did. And then again, and again. You were now so deep into it you weren’t sure there was a hope of you clawing your way back out. You weren’t sure there had been a hope after that first time. You needed them like you needed air. And you were okay with that.


	7. Caring For Her (Lilith/Reader)

“Here, let me help you.”

You caught the paper before it could fly off the stack in the cold draft that had appeared when you came through the door. You looked down at the woman sitting at the table, the red pen dangling from her fingers. You plucked it from her hand, putting it on top of the stack of papers to keep them from flying off again while you closed the door. 

“Long day?” you asked over your shoulder as you took one last look outside before shutting the night out. 

She muttered something under her breath which you were glad you couldn’t hear. You’d heard enough about Sabrina Spellman ruining plans and her little friends being a nuisance. You’d heard enough about Blackwood’s faults and the annoyances of Zelda Spellman. All you wanted was for everything to fall into place for her, to be able to be happy. 

You sat in the chair across from her, watching her pick up the next paper in the pile and discard it, her brow furrowed in annoyance. You reached out, picking it up. A scrawled, barely legible essay stared back at you, spelling mistakes jumping out from cluster of words. You dropped it, sorry for the kid who would have to deal with the harsh feedback on their subpar work. You’d read the scathing comments Lilith had left before.

“Let me make you dinner,” you said, standing again. 

You brushed your fingers over her shoulder and her head turned towards you, her hand grasping your wrist. You paused, looking down at her. Her blue eyes were staring up at you, the lines around her face softening.

“Thank you,” she said, releasing you. 

You lent forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead before walking into the kitchen to start on dinner. You’d spent enough time with Lilith to know she often forgot to eat, so caught up in her master’s plans it slipped her mind. You worried about her, even though you knew she hated that you did. She always told you she was more powerful than you could even comprehend, that she didn’t need your worry. You still did anyway.

You searched through her cupboards, looking for something easy. You’d spent the day imagining curling up with her on the sofa or in bed, silent and comforting. You loved the quiet moments with her, when she forgot about Satan, when it was just you and her, the only people in the world. Those were the moments you lived for. 

A soft hand ran over the back of your neck as you stood by the bench chopping vegetables. You turned your head enough to see the red of her dress in your peripheral vision. You smiled, turning back to the knife in hand, a soft sigh the only sound. 

“I don’t know how you manage with those kids,” you said, “it must be the most infuriating part of all this.”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” she replied. You let her not give you a proper answer. She had the right to keep secrets. 

You turned, giving her your full attention. She may not want to talk, may only want to be in your presence, but she deserved your full attention when you could give it to her. 

She was watching you, her eyes tracing over your body. You felt that thrill, the same one you’d felt the first time you’d caught her staring at you. You licked your lips, putting the knife down. 

You kissed her, soft and sweet, wanting her to feel every ounce of care you had for her in that one moment. She slid her hands into your hair, holding you in place as she kissed you again. Her body moulded against yours, so soft and warm. You moaned, digging your fingers into the flesh of her hips. 

She drew back and you kissed the tip of her nose. You pressed your forehead to hers, taking a deep breath in. Her eyes fluttered closed, a smile playing at the corner of her lips.

“Open your eyes,” you said, drawing back, “look at me.”

She blinked her eyes open and your breath caught in your throat at the glow in them. You’d never seen her look happier, the joy almost a physical force. 

“Take the rest of the night off,” you said, “you deserve a break.”

She ran her hand down your face, lingering on your jaw. You threaded your fingers through hers, squeezing her hand. She kissed you again, lingering long enough for you to flush. She winked and turned to walk out of the kitchen. You chuckled yourself and turned back to the counter. She made you so happy.


	8. Unexpected (Lilith/Hilda)

Lilith had never expected for this to happen. She’d spent so long believing herself hard enough to not need affection. She thought only weak women asked for displays of love or romance. She had thought she was above it. She thought she was stronger for it.

Then she met Hilda.

Hilda wasn’t the sexiest or the smoothest. She was awkward and would mumble and scurry about the house. She would blush and hover and flutter her hands. She was not who Lilith had expected to own her heart.

Lilith had had to make the first move. She flirted, watching the way the other woman would flush, clumsiness rising up, things being knocked over. She got a little thrill every time she flustered the witch. 

She knew Zelda must have had a hand in the final clincher. Hilda had come to her house, dressed up and unwilling to take no as an answer. She’d let Hilda think she had the control, that she hadn’t made the decision for this to happen. So when they’d kissed, she let Hilda be the one to do it. And then she took control. 

She hadn’t expected all the smiles, all the hands on shoulders, all the kisses. Hilda made sure to feed her, always bringing her extra food during the day. Hilda liked to cuddle up on the couch together of night and that was also new.

She could feel Hilda treating her like a spooked fawn. Every move was so careful, making sure she was okay. She knew Lilith would tense up every time she showed any kind of affection, any kind of care. It was so foreign to her, someone to care about her. 

Slowly, though, she began to relax, to come to expect the little touches, the shared smiles, the care and attention. She began to revel in it, to love the feeling of being loved. She began to crave it.

Her favourite time of day became in the evenings, when the rest of the house was quiet and they could sit in the living room together without interruption. Lilith would sit with her feet in Hilda’s lap, blanket draped over both of them. Hilda would be reading one of her trashy romance books while Lilith would grade papers she didn’t want to grade. Having Hilda there made it bearable. 

Watching her cook was also a delight. Lilith loved sitting in the kitchen, watching Hilda in her element, learning from her. Hilda was at her most relaxed when she felt in her element, when she was at her most confident. That was when Lilith heart melted and she fell further in love with the other witch. 

Not that they didn’t have their spats. Lilith knew she could be stubborn, knew she put up walls, knew she could be scathing when she wanted to be. Hilda could stand her ground but Lilith could watch her crumble before her eyes, poking and prodding at all her insecurities. Each time her heart would ache, knowing she was causing it, but she couldn’t stop. It was better to make Hilda leave than to do everything right and still be left. 

Every single time she was amazed that Hilda forgave her. That she stood up for herself and told Lilith that she was wrong. And slowly, Lilith began to believe she wasn’t going to leave her. 

Which is how she found herself moving into the Spellman house. She kept Mary Wardwell’s cottage, using it to speak with her master but she spent most of her time with the Spellman family. She was growing fond of all them, even Zelda, who she continued to butt heads with. 

“Are you listening to me?” 

Lilith looked up from where her gaze rested on the kitchen table. Hilda had her hands on her hips, her lips pursed. Lilith gave her a smile.

“Of course,” she replied.

Hilda raised her eyebrow but turned back to the stove. Lilith let her eyes rove over the blonde’s body and stood from her perch. She slide her arms around the shorter woman’s waist and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. Hilda patted her hand in acknowledgement but kept her attention on the food. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, pressing her face into Hilda’s neck.

“Of course, dear,” she said.

Hilda turned her head, pressing a kiss to the top of Lilith’s head. She purred, rubbing a head against Hilda’s like a cat. This was truly the life she never thought she could have. She was so scared of losing it. She would protect it with everything she had.


	9. Town Gossip (Zelda/Reader)

You couldn’t understand why Zelda was standing at your door. She quirked an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to say something. You weren’t sure you had any words for her. You opened the door wider to let her in.

She stepped past you. You took a deep breath in, trying to centre yourself. All you managed to do was cloud your head with a lungful of her perfume. You shut the door, with one last look into the night. 

You never thought you’d see Zelda Spellman standing in your living room. You became aware of the mess, the shabbiness of the room. You could see her assessing it, her eyes narrowing at they way you lived. You wished you’d had time to clean up before she arrived. If you’d known she was coming round. Which you hadn’t. 

“Can I help you with something, Miss Spellman?” you asked.

She took a seat on your roughly patched sofa, crossing one leg over the other. You bit on your lip, turning away to stop looking at her. 

“I’m not usually one to listen to idle town gossip but when my name comes up I tend to pay attention,” she said.

“Gossip?” you asked. This woman was an enigma wrapped in a mystery.

“And given it was in connection with your name I thought I should come to the source to find the answer.”

“I don’t think I understand, Miss Spellman,” you said, “what gossip?”

She stood and took a step towards you. You flinched back, knowing the kind of power she held, and you weren’t just talking about the magic. She smirked at you, brushing her hair off her shoulder. You gulped, not sure what she was doing, not liking the look in her eye. 

“There’s been talk about your feelings,” she said.

“I can’t help that,” you replied, taking a step back.

“That people talk about them or that you feel them?” she asked, taking a step forward.

“Both?” you squeaked. Your back hit the wall and you knew you were cornered.

She chuckled, stopping in front of you. She lifted her hand, slamming it onto the wall beside your head. You flinched away from it, scared of what she was going to do.

“What should I do with you?” she asked.

Your eyes flickered to the door then back to her face. This was the kind of position you’d fantasised about being in but to be there, now, was too much. You were overwhelmed by the heat rolling off her body, the heady scent of her perfume, the way her red lips quirked at you. 

“I don’t think so,” she said.

She pressed her lips to yours, her tongue entering your mouth. You gasped, shrinking back against the wall. She gripped your hip hard enough to leave bruises. She pressed her body against yours and you let go, winding your arms around her neck, trying to get as close as possible to her. If this was a dream, and you were almost certain it was, you were going to experience it to the fullest. 

She gripped your hair, tugging on it. You moaned into her mouth, sliding your hands over her body. You’d dreamt about running your hands over every inch of that body, of feeling her shiver under our touch. 

She began to palm at your breast. You arched your back into her touch, moaning again. She bit down on your lower lip, tugging on it. You groaned, letting your thumb run over your nipple. She growled, pressing you against the wall again.

She shifted her hand up your shirt, her nails running over your skin. You shivered, tensing as her hand clamped over your breast. She pulled your bra away from your skin, grazing your nippled with her knuckle. You hissed, arching your back again. She began to roll it between her fingers, slowly, drawing back to watch you. Your eyes fell closed, every nerve ending on fire.

“Is this what you’ve imagined?” she asked.

“Yes,” you breathed.

She bit down on your pulse point. Your head fell back, hitting the wall hard enough to hurt. You didn’t care, so wrapped up in the pleasure coursing through your veins. She growled again, her other hand following the first one. 

“Do you want more?” she asked.

You nodded, crying out as she tweaked your nipple. She grinned against your skin, her hand sliding down your stomach. You tensed, waiting for her to do something more. She pushed your trousers down your hips, not even bothering to undo them. You kicked them off your legs. She pushed your legs apart.

You hissed as she ran her fingers over your core. Your hips bucked towards her. She chuckled, biting down on your exposed collarbone. You arched your neck, vibrating with need. She began to swirl her finger over your clit.

“You like that?” she hissed.

You nodded, trying to keep the sob from escaping your throat. She pressed a finger to your entrance, the other hand still playing with your breast. You were panting, already a mess under her touch. This was more than any fantasy could have prepared you for. 

She pushed her finger into you and you thought your legs might collapse under you. You moaned, embarrassingly loud in the silent room. She chuckled again, dragging her teeth over your skin. You wanted to feel her when she was gone, to see the marks and know for this split second you were hers. 

She added another finger, beginning to stretch you. Her palm hit your bundle of nerves and you saw stars. Your hips bucked against her, desperate for her to fill you up. She added a third finger, curling within you. You cried you. You clutched at her shoulders, unable to do anything else. 

She ground her palm against your clit. Your legs had turned to jelly and you were writhing against her. All you wanted was to cum, so desperate. You could feel yourself whining as she played with your body, her hands driving you towards the edge. You needed it with every fibre of your being.

She bit down on your neck again, hard enough to leave bruises. Her fingers pinched your nipple and her fingers curled within you. You came with a cry, shaking. She stepped back and your legs gave out. You slid to the floor, gasping for breath, unable to be embarrassed of everything you’d done. 

“Well, that was fun,” she said, wiping her hand on your trousers. 

She handed them to you. You pulled them on, feeling self conscious under her gaze. You looked up at her. You felt a throb in your core when you saw her smeared lipstick. You wanted to smear it more.

“What was the gossip, Miss Spellman?” you asked, trying to understand anything that had happened.

“I think you can call me Zelda, don’t you?” she said, rather than answer you question.

“Sure,” you said with a shrug.

“I must be getting back,” she said.

She looked down at you, an oddly disdainful look on her face. You climbed to your feet, leaning on the wall to help you. You still felt shaky after everything. She let her eyes run over your body and you shivered again. 

“Will I see you later?” you asked.

“Maybe,” she replied.

You watched her walk out the door, still trying to wrap your head around what had happened. It was a whirlwind. You didn’t understand it.


	10. Lupercalia (Zelda/Reader/Lilith)

You could hear the other people in the woods, their shrieks of delight as they were caught, their feet running over the leaves and twigs. You knew you had a harder time than the rest, two women in pursuit of you. You let your cloak stream out behind you as you ran, dodging past trees as best you could in the dark. 

You tried to keep your eyes and ears open for your pursuers. It was hard with the squeals of other people moving around you. 

A body came out of the darkness, running towards you. You stumbled a step back and fell into another body. A pair of arms wrapped around you, caging you in. You gasped for breath, the exhilaration and adrenaline coursing through your veins as you watched Zelda take a step towards you. She was smiling at you like you were a mouse caught in a trap. 

You lent back, knowing Mary was holding you, her scent enveloping you. Zelda stalked towards you and you let your eyes rove over her body. Her hips were swaying, her cloak slithering over the dead leaves on the ground. You bit down on your lower lip. 

“Caught you,” Mary breathed in your ear.

You shivered, leaning back into her touch. You turned your head, your nose brushing over the skin of her jawline. A hand grasped your chin, turning your head back towards Zelda. She was baring her teeth at you, her eyes glinting when they met yours. You felt your stomach clench.

“Time for our prize,” she growled.

She slammed her lips against yours, her nails digging into the skin at your chin. You gasped, opening your mouth under hers, letting her consume you. Another pair of lips attached to your neck, teeth sinking in to your vulnerable flesh. You reached out, grasping Zelda’s hips. 

She bit down on your lower lip hard enough to draw blood, the coppery tang filling your mouth. You shuddered. Mary slid her hands up your body, her fingers trailing over the exposed skin. You moaned into Zelda’s mouth. 

Zelda slid her hand over your body too, leaving flames trailing over your skin. You shuddered, arching into the hands making your nerve endings feel on fire. You rocked your hips forward, towards Zelda, needing some friction. 

Mary’s hands landed on your shoulders, pushing you down. You landed on your knees, twigs digging into the vulnerable skin of your legs. You looked up at Zelda, her fingers still digging into your chin. She was looking down at you, smirking, your blood smeared over her lips. You felt your stomach clench. 

Mary stepped into your line of vision, smiling down at you like you were an innocent little lamb ready for slaughter. She brushed your hair behind your ear, her fingers lingering on your jaw. 

Zelda pushed you back, pushing you down with her body. She straddled your waist, pushing you down on the forest floor. You reached up, grasping her hips. You pushed her against you, arching up against her. Mary kneeled beside you, kissing you long and deep. 

Zelda let go of your chin, sliding her hands down your body, pushing your skirt up your legs. Her finger ghosted over your heat and you whined into Mary’s mouth. Zelda slid down your body, forcing her thigh between your legs. She pressed herself down on your now bare thigh, leaving a slick wetness on your skin. 

Mary drew back from you, grinning. She rose from beside you and you whined again, not wanting her to leave. Zelda drew her finger over your covered core again and you shifted against her. She hissed as your thigh pushed against her again. 

You looked up and saw Mary standing over you. She put one foot either side of your head and you had the perfect view up her skirt. You licked your lips, your eyes roving over her uncovered core. She lowered herself towards you. You strained up to meet her lips.

You licked up her slit as she settled more comfortably above you. Zelda pushed your underwear to the side, her finger circling over your clit. You gasped, writhing against her. She ground down against your thigh as her finger began to circle more tightly against your bundle of nerves. 

You licked up Mary’s slit again, feeling her thighs clench around you. You brushed your tongue over her clit, enjoying the way she shook above you.

Without warning, Zelda slid her finger into you and you bucked against her. You wrapped your lips around Mary’s clit, sucking on it. Her legs were shaking around you. Zelda pushed another finger into you, her thumb grinding against your clit as she rocked against your leg. You pressed it up against her more insistently. 

Zelda begins slamming her fingers into you, roughly pushing against you. You shuddered, your body feeling as if you were on fire. You brought your hands up to grasp Mary’s thighs, your nails digging into her flesh, pulling her further against your mouth. If she suffocated you it would be worth it. 

Zelda was rocking more insistently against you, your thigh so slick from her juices. You pushed your tongue into Mary’s entrance and she cried out into the night. You pressed your nose against her clit. Her walls began to clench around your tongue, more juices streaming onto your face. Zelda slammed her hand against your clit and you came with a cry. 

You could feel your body convulsing. But you were keeping Mary into place, your tongue pushing into her. Zelda was still riding your thigh as she helped you through your orgasm. Mary was shuddering above you, her hips rocking as you sucked on her clit again.

Zelda was out of time, jerking against you as you came down from your high. Mary went still above you, every single one of her muscles going rigid. Zelda cried out, her body straining as she ground against you. You pressed up against her and she screamed, her body stilling. 

Mary climbed off you, leaning down to kiss you. Zelda lent forward as well, pressing her lips to your neck, biting down on your pulse point. You slid your arm around her waist, holding her against you. You threaded your fingers through Mary’s hair, kissing her deeply. 

“Home?” Zelda asked, drawing away from you.

You nodded, letting her pull you up from the forest floor. You knew you had twigs and leaves tangled in your hair and your skin was flushed, your chin still covered in Mary’s juices. 

Zelda led you, her arm around your waist. Mary’s hand was twined with yours, her body bumping against yours in a comforting way. You lent your head against Zelda’s shoulder, ignoring the other people enjoying their own Lupercallia. You were in for a long, enjoyable night.


	11. Milk (Zelda/Reader?Lilith)

“Did you finish the milk?” you asked from where you were standing in front of the open fridge door. 

You closed it and looked over at Mary at the table. She raised her eyebrow at you as if that were answer enough. You huffed and scrunched your nose at her. 

“You put the carton back,” you said, putting it down in front of her.

“You have no proof it was me,” she replied.

“Stop teasing her,” Zelda said from behind her paper.

“And let her accuse me of these things?” Mary demanded.

“Who else finished the milk?” you asked her.

“There are more people living in this house than just you and me,” she replied, “any one of them could have done it.”

You looked at her, pursing your lips. She was smirking in that way that made your blood boil and your heart race. You sauntered around the table, plucking the mug of coffee out of her hand. You took a sip from it, wrinkling your nose at the taste but Mary was looking frustrated.

“At least I haven’t resorted to stealing,” she said.

“Don’t think of it as stealing, think of it as sharing,” you replied.

“I wish you’d both think a little quieter,” Zelda snapped.

You pouted at her, waiting for her to look at you. If you were silent for too long she always shifted her attention to you as if making sure you were okay. Her eyes met yours and you gave her the puppy dog eyes. She sighed and put the paper aside.

You slid onto her lap, her arms automatically wrapping around your waist. You lent your head on her shoulder, smiling smugly at Mary. She bared her teeth at you and you curled up against Zelda.

“Leave her alone,” Zelda said to Mary.

“I’ve done nothing,” Mary said.

“Except finish the milk,” you said.

“That is an unfounded allegation and I’m offended you keep making it,” she replied.

“I saw you do it,” Zelda said, “I was sitting here while you poured yourself a cup of coffee, finish the milk, and put the carton back in the fridge.”

“You did?” you asked, drawing back to look at Zelda.

She nodded. You lent forward and kissed her, doing your best not to spill your coffee all down her back. Your hand was emptied of the mug, letting you tangle your hands in her hair, pulling yourself closer to her. 

You lent against her shoulder again, looking over at Mary. She was drinking from the mug.

“Hey, you stole my coffee,” you said.

“Don’t think of it as stealing, think of it as sharing,” she said with a quirk of the eyebrow.

You ground your teeth but decided not to snap back. Mary had won this round but you’d get her the next time. 

Zelda tightened her arms around you, pressing a kiss to the vulnerable skin under your jaw. Mary got up and handed you the mug, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. You looked up at her with big eyes, your mouth falling open.

“I finished the milk,” she said, “I’ll go get some more.”

“Really?” you asked.

“No, I’m needed at work,” she said, “if you want milk so badly, you can go get it yourself.”

“I hate you,” you called after her retreating figure.

“That’s not what you were saying last night when my tongue was-“

“Just get to work,” Zelda interrupted as your skin flushed bright red.

Mary waved at you both, laughing. You tried to mask your embarrassment by taking a long drink of the coffee, sputtering when it touched your tastebuds. You hated coffee. 

“At least she admitted to it this time,” Zelda said.

“Yeah,” you said, “but why’d it have to be coffee?”


	12. Punishment (Zelda/Reader)

Zelda was straddling you, her lips devouring your soul. She had your hands pinned to the bed, holding you tightly enough to cut off the blood flow. You were arching up into her, wanting her to consume you. 

One of her hands slid up your arm, tangling into your hair. She tugged on it, drawing a long moan from you. You flipped her over, wanting to take her, to taste her, to own her. You nipped at her bottom lip. She chuckled, flipped you back over. She pinned your hands again, drawing away from you. 

“I don’t think so,” she hissed. 

She nipped at your collarbone as she fumbled with something above your head. Your hands were tied to the headboard. You strained against the binds, wanting to touch the other woman. She bit down, hard enough to leave a mark on your skin.

You arched up towards her, groaning as her hand began to palm your breast. She bit down on the point where your shoulder met your neck and you cried out. Her thumb swiped over your nipple and you arched further off the mattress. She laughed, drawing back from you, sitting on her heels.

You could only imagine what you looked like to her. You could feel your skin flushing, your breathing hard, your hands tied over your head. You knew you were a mess, literally panting for her touch. She pinched your nipple, earning a gasp from you. You could see her smirking at you.

“You’re not in charge here,” she said, “I am.”

You whimpered as she began to roll your nipple between her thumb and forefinger. You were straining towards her, your back so far off the mattress you were almost sitting up. She was lazily dragging her nails over your stomach as she played with your nipple, dragging you to higher levels of desperation. 

She lent forward, capturing your nipple with her lips. You moaned, biting down on your lower lip to try and keep quiet. You tasted the coppery tang of blood on your tongue as her teeth grazed you, one of her hands beginning to trail down your stomach. 

She circled your clit with a featherlight touch. You couldn’t stop the cry that ripped from your throat, your head thrown back as you gasped for breath. She bit down on your nipple, her nails digging into the bare skin go you’re hip. You wanted her, in every way possible.

She pressed her thumb down on your clit. You screamed, your legs beginning to tremble as she ground against your sensitive numb. You could feel the tears beginning to gather in your eyes. You buried your face in the pillow, biting down on the feather-filled material to stop yourself form screaming again.

Without warning she disappeared from her your body. Your eyes snapped open and you looked desperately for her. She was standing at the end of the bed, looking down at you, her arms crossed. You whined, straining to reach her. 

“I think you need time to let this lesson sink in,” she said.

“No,” you whined, “please.” 

You clenched your legs together, trying to get some friction. All you managed to do was make her smirk. With little more than a wink she turned on her heels and walked out of the room, leaving you tied up and desperate.


	13. Protection (Zelda/Reader)

There’s something to be said for the crush of bodies and overwhelming noise of a bar. It helped keep your mind off the thoughts that had been running rampant through your head all day. All the mortals in this bar were about as far from the world you were used to as you could get. There were no enigmatic red heads who fucked with your head. 

“Hello there, beautiful.”

A man sidled up to you, leaning his elbow on the bar to crowd into your personal space. You gave him a tight smile, clutching the stem from your martini a little tighter. He smiled at you, big and bright and a little drunk.

“Hi.”

“Let me buy you a drink,” he requested.

You cocked your head considering it. On the one hand you didn’t want to encourage his foolish ideas of flirtation, but on the other hand it would be free alcohol. He brushed your hair behind your ear in a gesture that was too familiar. You shuddered, drawing back from him. He gestured to the woman behind the bar. 

“Another beer and whatever she’s having,” he said.

You gave a tight smile to the other woman. She quirked her eyebrow at you but you shook your head. If worse came to worse you could teleport out of the bathroom to avoid him. Or call the one person you didn’t want to.

You took the proffered drink, already regretting it. A pale hand grasped your wrist, jerking the drink away from you. You turned, ready to complain about the spilled liquid only to be met with piercing blue eyes that made your heart skip a beat. 

“She will not be partaking in this particular ritual,” Zelda said, her voice like ice as she turned her gaze onto the man. 

He quailed under her look, scurrying off into the crowd never to been seen again. You could understand that. Sometimes you wanted to escape from that look. Much as you did when she turned back to you. 

“I am hoping this is not an act of defiance against the rules I have put in place for the protection of the coven,” she said. 

“It’s more like stepping out for a breath of fresh air.”

She looked around at the smokey bar, at the scent of sweat, at the crush of bodies on every side, and raised an eyebrow at you. 

“The curfew is for your own good,” she snapped, “return at once to the Academy and leave these mortal men to make their beds elsewhere.”

“And what if I don’t?” 

Her eyes hardened and if you hadn’t been seated you would have taken a step back. She pulled your arm towards her, her hold grinding bone against bone. You were certain it would leave a bruise.

“Would you prefer to return home with that buffoon?” she hissed, “are you looking for someone to paw at you like a hormonal teenager?”

You paused, your eyes assessing her. There was a strain to her voice, a note you had never heard before. Her cheeks were flushed and her mouth was in a thin line but you could feel her fingers twitch against the delicate skin of your wrist. 

“Zelda Spellman,” you said, watching her eyes narrow, “are you jealous?”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I finished what I started?” you asked, too innocent.

“You shall do no such thing,” she snapped.

“Why not?”

“I will not allow it.”

“How are you going to stop me?”

Her lips pressed against yours, harsh and demanding. Her hand was cupping the back of your neck, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape. You wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling yourself into a standing position so as to press your body against hers. The thoughts running through your head all day were finally coming to life. 

She tugged on your hair and you moaned into her mouth. Her tongue brushed against your own and you thought your knees might buckle underneath you. You clutched her tighter, your fingers digging into her flesh while her nails scraped over your scalp. 

She was so soft, so warm, so pliable. She was holding you close, not demanding anything from you. You were pressing yourself against her needing to feel her. You needed to know this was real. It would be so easy to believe this was a dream. It wouldn’t be the first one for you.

She drew away, pressing her forehead against yours. You tried to take in a deep breath, steadying yourself after this revelation. Your hands were still resting on her hips, the material of her dress scraping against your skin. You blinked your eyes open.

Her blue eyes were bright, sparkling in the low light. You’d smeared her lipstick, sure it was all over you. She ran a finger down your cheek, a smile gracing her lips. You smiled back.

“No more arguments,” she said, “back to the Academy.”

“Okay.”

She wrapped her arm securely around your waist, leading you out of the bar. You didn’t see her smile falter once.


	14. Caught (Zelda/Reader)

Her fingernails were digging into the flesh of the small of your back and she was so warm underneath you. You were grinding down on her, the week of frustration building to this moment. She was moaning into your mouth, all tongue and teeth and heat. Your fingers were buried so deeply in her hair you wondered if you’d ever be able to untangle your fingers. 

Lingering touches and heated looks had led to this moment. Biting your lip and running your fingers over the neckline of your low cut shirt had made her eyes darken and her breathing hitch. The sway of her hips and and the scent of her perfume swirling around you had you needing a cold shower every day. You’d done everything you could to get to this exact position, with you in her lap, her teeth nipping at your skin, her hands running over your body. 

She bit down on your lower lip, tugging on it. You groaned, your hips rolling against her as her hands travelled further up the back of your shirt. You need more, need her in every single way possible. Your body was thrumming, practically vibrating under her touch. 

She pulled your shirt up, throwing it to the floor. You trailed your lips down her neck, sucking on her pulse point, feeling her blood thump. You couldn’t help but graze your teeth over it, shivering at the knowledge that her life blood was thrumming under your tongue. Her fingernails dug into your shoulder, scratching down the bare skin of your back. You groaned, grinding against her more wantonly. 

Your fingers fumbled with the buttons fo her shirt, wanting nothing more to rip it from her body. Her fingers dipped below the waistband of your trousers as she murmured delicious things into your ears. You ran your fingers along her collarbone as you exposed it, practically salivating at the thought of tasting her skin. 

A loud cough rang out in the otherwise silent room.

You shrieked, flying back from Zelda. Her hands pushed you off her and you fell on the floor with a thump. You looked up into the faces of some of the most familiar people to you. You scrabbled for your shirt, holding against your chest as if that would give you back your dignity. You could feel your cheeks flushing bright red. You wanted the earth to swallow you up. 

“Hilda?” Zelda gasped, sitting up properly on the sofa, “what are you doing here?”

“Sabrina called a family meeting,” Hilda replied, “didn’t you get the message?”

“Of course I didn’t,” Zelda snapped.

You buried your face in your hands, unable to do anything else. If you could freeze time you would, if nothing else to slip away unseen by the others. You’d never thought you could be so embarrassed in your entire life. This was worse than the time your mother had walking in on your first kiss. Admittedly that had been with Shaun from across the street who you didn’t particularly like, but you had wanted to burst into flames at the time all the same.

The silence stretched in the room and the sudden worry that Zelda had wanted to keep this a secret sprung up in you. You knew she wasn’t very forthcoming about personal details but you assumed you were more than her dirty little secret. You peeked up at her. Her mouth was in a thin line, a flush high in her cheeks as she stared down her family. 

“Perhaps we should give Auntie Zee a moment,” Sabrina suggested.

“If you have a problem, voice it now,” Zelda said, “I will not be giving you a second chance.”

You glanced up at her again, not sure what she meant. 

“Can we take this to mean (Y/N) will be here more often?” Ambrose asked.

She gave a curt nod, her lips pressed together. Your heart thudded loudly against your ribcage, missing a beat at the implication. You weren’t just her dirty little secret. 

“Oh Zelds,” Hilda said, rushing into the room. 

She pulled you up from the floor and into a big hug. You didn’t know what to do. Your arms were pressed into your chest from where they still held your shirt. Zelda stood, flicking her hair over her shoulder. 

Her hand was warm on the small of your back once Hilda released you. You stepped closer to her, your eyes flickering from face to face. Sabrina was grinning to hard it looked like it must hurt. Ambrose nodded his head.

“This should be interesting,” Prudence said, giving you one of those looks you’d always had trouble deciphering.

“Play nice,” Hilda said, “I’m so happy for you Zelds.”

“Thank you, sister,” she said, “please give us a moment.”

You watched them file out of the room. Hilda was smiling at you the entire time, practically vibrating with excitement. Zelda gently turned you away from the doorway. You looked into her blue eyes, not sure what was coming.

“Would you like to stay the night?” she asked.

You nodded, not sure you’d regained your voice yet. She took your shirt from your hands, gentle as if dealing with a spooked deer. She redressed you, running a hand over your shoulder to smooth the material under her touch. You blinked, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. 

She ran her thumb over your lip, pulling it from your teeth. She lent forward, pressing a surprisingly sweet kiss to your lips. Your hands settled on her hips, so natural to you. She pressed her forehead against yours, her eyes closed.

“Praise Hecarte,” she breathed.

“For?” your voice was still quiet but wasn’t as small as you feared it might be.

“For giving me this,” she said and kissed you again.


	15. Help (Zelda/Reader)

You took an unnecessary breath, hoping it would steady your nerves before you knocked on the huge door. You needed help. You didn’t have the skills necessary to fight this problem so you’d come to the one person you knew did. 

You waited, looking up into night sky. The stars were out in full force tonight, everything bathed in silver light from the moon. The world was painted in shades of grey, shadows stretching over the lawn. You heard the door open behind you.

“Can I help you?”

The voice was like a stake through the heart. It hurt, starting an ache in your chest you had thought you’d finished with. You thought you could handle this. You were wrong. 

“Hi Zelds,” you said, turning to look at the statuesque red head.

“(Y/N),” she breathed, the smoke from her cigarette curling up in the cool night air.

“I need your help,” you said, “please.”

“You had better come in then.”

You followed behind her. Her shoulders were tense. You’d once been able to read her like book. She’d been as familiar as your favourite song. Now she felt as far away as the sun. 

“Take a seat.”

You sunk onto the sofa, watching Zelda take her place by the fireplace. She crossed her arms over her chest, taking a puff on her cigarette. 

“What dangers have you brought to my door this time?” she asked.

“There’s a hunter after me. He’s been following me for the last four years. I need to get him off my back,” you said.

“Why don’t you kill him?” she asked, practical as always.

“I don’t do that anymore,” you replied.

“You don’t kill?” she asked.

“Not after it got me thrown in the dungeons under Budapest,” you replied, “after some public indecency.”

A flush crept up her cheeks but she said nothing. She turned to look in the fire, her back to you. You assumed she was thinking it over, figuring out if helping you was worth the risk. She was your last chance. You needed it to be worth the risk.

“Please Zelds,” you said, “I have no one else.”

She turned back to you, stubbing her cigarette out. You watched her stalk towards you, looking down her nose at you. You recognised the look in her eye. It was the same look that had been the inciting event to get you thrown in the Budapest dungeons. 

“Zelda,” you warned.

“You come to my home, put my family in danger, ask for my help. I think I deserve something in return.”

Her weight settled on your lap, familiar and warm. Your hands automatically rested on her hips, pulling her closer to your body. She grasped your chin in her hand, swiping her thumb over your lower lip. You nipped at it and she chuckled.

She kissed you, her tongue sliding along yours. She drew away again, looking down at you. Her eyes were dark, smouldering at you.

“I’ve missed you,” she said, her voice low.

“Fuck, Zelds,” you said, digging your fingers into the flesh of her hips, “I’ve missed you too.”

This time she kissed you all tongue and teeth, her nails digging into your skin. Her hand moved down, wrapping around your neck in a tight grip. If you required breath this would have cut it off completely. You were pulling her closer, enjoying the weight of her above you. You’d missed this, the fire that you’d always felt with her. 

You ran your hands up her back, tangling them in her hair, tugging until she moaned into your mouth. Her grip on your neck slackened as her hand travelled down, palming your breast. You arched into her touch, wanting to get your hands on her skin.

You dropped your hand to her leg, pushing up underneath her skirt. You trailed your nails over her skin, feeling her shiver against you. You kept pushing her skirt up, wanting to feel her heat. 

“Auntie Zee?”

Zelda drew back from you, her lipstick smeared and her eyes glazed. She looked over her shoulder. A willowy blonde teenage girl was standing there. A short blonde woman standing beside her. Both were staring at you, wide eyed.

“Did I hear someone at the door?” another voice asked.

You watched as a man walked in, stopping when he caught sight of the two of you. Zelda climbed off your lap as gracefully as she could, tugging her skirt back down. You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to appear presentable.

“Are you going to introduce me?” you asked, standing as well.

“Hilda, Ambrose, Sabrina, this is (Y/N),” Zelda said.

“And is (Y/N) staying for dinner?” Hilda asked.

“I dunno,” you said, placing your hand on the small of Zelda’s back, “what do you think, Zelds?”

“She’ll be staying for the foreseeable future,” Zelda replied, not looking at you.

“Right. I’ll set up the guest room then, shall I?” Hilda asked.

“That won’t be necessary,” Zelda replied.

“Zelda enjoys sharing,” you said, resting your chin on her shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re talking about Auntie Zee?” Sabrina asked, raising an eyebrow at you. She had her aunt’s spirit if that was any indication.

“When I first met your aunt she wasn’t so,” you ran a single finger down her spine, feeling the strings of her corset under your touch, “straight laced.”

You felt the heat pool in her cheeks and you smiled. Sometimes it was so easy to work her up.

“In fact, she can be rather fun.” 

You pressed your lips to her cheeks, enjoying the warmth against your cool skin. You had to work to keep your teeth retracted, the heady scent of her blood invading your senses. You’d never do anything to hurt her. At least, not anything she didn’t ask for.

“Are you sure you’re talking about Auntie Zee?” Sabrina asked with a giggle.

“Should I tell her about what you got up to in Spain?” you asked, looking at Zelda.

“Don’t you dare.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around her waist, resting your chin on shoulder again. She gave you that look you knew could put you in your place but you were having too much fun. She’d never let you meet her family before.

“I think we’ve had enough of that.”

Zelda grabbed your hand, leading you out of the room. You waved to the gathered Spellmans, grinning as Zelda marched you upstairs.


	16. Finally (Zelda/Reader)

You wrung your hands together in your lap. The sofa was comfortable under your legs, so familiar from all the hours you’d spent in this house. Ambrose was your best friend and you were hoping what you were about to do wouldn’t change that. 

“Out with it.”

You looked up from your hands. Zelda Spellman was standing in front of you, her customary cigarette the only part of the picture missing. She was looking down at you, making your heart miss a beat. Butterflies were fighting in your stomach and if you weren’t pressing your hands together you new they’d be shaking. 

You’d considered not doing this, leaving it, living with it, without giving voice to it. You had thought it would be fine, to continue to go about your life feeling these feelings and never doing anything about them. It would be easier to ignore them.

You never took the easy way out.

“I have something I think I should tell you,” you said.

You averted your eyes back to your hands. The thought of watching her face as you revealed your feelings made you feel sick. You still had a chance to run.

“You _think_ you should tell me?” You could hear the raised eyebrow in her voice.

You knew that look so well. So often you’d say something and she’d raise her eyebrow, making you feel like a child. She was so in control of herself, giving off this aura of power that made you flustered. It didn’t help that she was the most gorgeous person you’d ever seen. 

A finger lifted your chin. You looked into the deep green eyes of the older witch. Your cheeks flushed as you saw her smile. It was slow, steady, and it made your heart miss a beat. 

“You have something to tell me,” she prompted, her voice softer. 

You nodded, her finger still under your chin. She waited, watching you as you tried to gather your nerve. It was hard while she was looking at her, her gaze so intense. No one made you feel as unbalanced as she did.

“It’s okay,” she said.

You blinked at her, not sure what she meant. She leaned down, forward, invading your personal space. Her breath fanned over your face and you closed your eyes. This was more than you were able to handle. 

Her lips pressed against yours. You almost drew away but her grip on her chin was tight enough to discourage you. Instead, you sunk into the kiss. You grabbed her hips, pulling her down on top of you. She straddled your lap, her hands burying themselves in your hair. You moaned into her mouth, pulling her body tighter against you.

She tugged on your hair pulling you away from her face. You looked up at her, the sense of unreality taking over. Your dreams were becoming a reality before your very eyes and it was a lot to get used to. Her lips closed over your earlobe, her teeth tugging on it. You let your head fall back as she licked and sucked her way to your pulse point. You were lucky the house was empty with all the noise you were making.

“(Y/N)?”

You ran your hands up her back, scratching your nails back down as you arched your neck. Her teeth sunk into your skin and you groaned. She pulled your hair, pulling your head to the side as she moved closer to you. 

“Auntie Zee?”

You moved your hands down to her ass, squeezing her flesh. She growled against your skin, sinking her teeth further into your neck. You felt her grind down onto your lap while you arched your back towards her. 

“Hello?”

The voice finally got through your haze of lust. You snapped your eyes open, your hands stilling on Zelda’s body. Her tongue ran over the teeth marks she’d left on your skin. You locked eyes with Ambrose. He was staring at you, an unreadable look on his face.

“Stop,” you said, pushing at Zelda’s shoulders, “stop.”

She drew back from you, swiping her thumb over her lower lip. She looked deliciously dishevelled and if you didn’t have an audience you’d be throwing her down on the sofa and showing her how irresistible you found her. But Ambrose was still staring at you.

“Ambrose,” you said but couldn’t find anything else to say.

Zelda looked over her shoulder, seeing her family there for the first time. You hadn’t noticed Hilda and Sabrina at first, so focused on your best friend, but now you could feel their eyes burning into you. This had been a mistake.

“It’s about bloody time.” A smile broke over Ambrose’s face.

You flung yourself up from the sofa, ignoring Zelda’s complaints to throw your arms around Ambrose. He caught you, laughing as he lifted you up into a hug.

“I thought you’d hate me,” you said, feeling the tears gathering in your eyes.

“I could never hate you,” he reassured you, “and it was painfully obvious how you felt about Auntie Zee.”

“So you knew?” you asked.

He laughed, throwing his head back. 

“Oh love, we all knew,” Hilda said.

You felt your cheeks flush. 

“Don’t embarrass her,” Sabrina said.

“Leave the poor girl alone,” Zelda said, “it’s not her fault she’s so easy to read.”

You felt her put her hand on your lower back which only made your cheeks warmer. Her hand was knocked from you as Sabrina pulled you into a hug.

“I’m really happy for you.”

“Thank you,” you said, feeling overwhelmed.

She let you go and Ambrose flung his arm around your shoulders.

“I think this calls for a celebration,” he said, “and I have just the bottle of wine.”

He led you out of the living room, ignoring your blush and your wide grin. You’d never been this happy in your life.


	17. Masquerade (Zelda/Reader)

You hadn’t been sure if you should attend. The invitation had come in the mail on heavy card, unsigned but accompanied with instructions. You’d followed them, finding yourself being set up with a beautiful dress and a work of art for a mask, all paid by your mysterious benefactor. It had all been delivered to your door with a reminder of how to get dressed in all the layers of fabric. 

It had hung on the back of your door, staring at you every night. You’d gone backwards and forward, changing your mind every other hour as to whether you should go to the party. 

But you were scared of what your benefactor would do if you didn’t.

A hair and makeup artist had shown up early in the day, sitting you down and assuring you everything had been explained to them and paid for. You’d been kept from a mirror as you’d been tugged this way and that, told how to hold yourself and which way to look. Your breath had been taken away when you’d finally been shown your reflection in the mirror. You’d never seen yourself that way. 

Outside the beautiful house people were arriving in expensive cars. You felt self-conscious in your Uber, doing your best to manoeuvre your way out of he car in the miles of fabric encasing your body. You could see the sneers directed towards the car as you practically rolled from the back seat. You’d never felt so out of place in your life.

The ballroom was bathed in warm light. Imitation of candles were suspended in beautiful crystal chandeliers above your head. People were crowded on the sidelines, leaving the dance floor empty. At one end a live orchestra was playing soft music, mixing in with the chatter of the people. You looked, trying to see if there was anyone familiar in the crowd, but with the masks you couldn’t tell.

You weren’t sure what to do with yourself. You knew no one in the room. You felt out of place. You’d never been in a place as fancy as the one you were standing in. You’d never worn a dress as expensive as the one you had on your body. You’d never seen anything as beautiful as the masked ball surrounding you.

You passed by people, watching as they turned to look at you. Whispers followed in your wake and you felt your cheeks heat up. You weren’t used to being noticed by strangers, and you couldn’t help the self-consciousness rise in you. You would have preferred to turn around and leave, but you knew you needed to find out who had invited you. 

Couples took to the floor, swinging around in arcing circles, twirling to the music. Your blood froze in your veins. With all the questions you’d had about who had sent you the invitation you hadn’t even thought about dancing. You had no idea how to dance in a ballroom. You’d never thought it was something you’d need to know. 

You pushed yourself to the back of the crowd, doing your best to lean against the wall despite the voluminous fabric of your dress. You tried to keep out of everyone’s way, not wanting to take up more space than you had to. Despite the sparkle in the air you were desperate to leave. 

You tried to ignore the few people who were still looking over their shoulders at you. You couldn’t imagine why people were still looking at you. You kept craning your neck, trying to figure out who had sent the invite. 

“Hello.”

You flinched back, surprised at the man who had appeared out of seemingly nowhere. He held his hand out to you, a large ring catching the light. His dark hair hung over his eye, his face hidden behind a leather mask. He looked young but affluent, the gold of his brocade shining in the soft light.

“May I have this dance?” he asked.

“No you may not.”

A woman appeared out of the crowd. Her skirt twirled around her legs as she stepped between you and the young man. He sized her up, puffing his chest out. You couldn’t see her expression but she straightened her shoulders and you weren’t sure you would go to war against her. There was something familiar in the movement.

Her red hair cascaded down her back in soft curls. Dark sapphire silk wrapped around her body, flowing to the floor, silver embroidery swirling over her skirts. You’d never seen anyone so elegant in your life. 

“She’s already engaged.”

The man glanced over her shoulder, looking at you. His eyes were dark but he had a smirk on his face that didn’t settle well with you.

“I think we should let the lady decided.”

The woman turned to look at you. Black lace covered her face, green eyes staring at you. Jewels hung around her long neck, sparkling in the light. Her commanding presence was intoxicating. Your heart stopped in your chest.

“I’m so sorry but I’m already engaged,” you told the young man.

The woman took your arm, leading you away from the man. You didn’t look back.

She led you onto the dance floor, surrounded by the couples gracefully twirling around you. You looked at her, her blood red lips smiling at you. You gulped.

“I should warn you, I don’t know how to dance,” you said as she took your hand in hers.

She placed your hand on her shoulder and her hand on your waist.

“I suppose I shall have to lead then,” the woman said.

She stepped forward, leading you in the dance. It felt like you were flying, placing your complete trust in this stranger. She kept you from running into anyone else, her arm steady around you. It felt as if she was part of the music, magic flowing from her body into yours. 

“You are truly breathtaking tonight, my dear,” she said, her eyes roaming over your face. You felt yourself flush at the compliment, mumbling something in return. You felt her fingers tighten on you.

“You are the envy of every woman here tonight,” she said, her thumb stroking along your exposed collarbone. You shivered. 

“Including you?” you asked.

“Why should I be envious when I have your undivided attention?” she responded.

You didn’t have an answer so kept quiet. She allowed you to listen to the music, to watch the other dancers move around you flawlessly. It was like being in a dream, something out of make believe rather than your life. It was making your head spin. You couldn’t get enough air into your lungs, couldn’t stop the heat rising in you. 

“I need some air,” you gasped.

She grasped your arm above your elbow, steering you through the dancing couples. She pulled some curtains aside, revealing a balcony overlooking the garden spread out before you, difficult to see in the night. The stars were hanging above you, like diamonds scattered over black velvet. 

You stepped out into the cool air, shivering as it touched your bare skin. You lent on the balustrade, looking up at the night sky. You took a deep breath, restricted by the corset under your bodice. You’d tried to argue against it but the dressmaker had told you it was necessary. It had been hard to argue after you’d seen yourself in the whole outfit. 

A hand settled on the small of your back, the heady scent of shadows swirling around you. You’d assumed the other woman had left you to collect yourself. You looked over.

A familiar face was looking at you. Pale skin shone in the moonlight and green eyes looked on concerned. You took a step back, almost stumbling over yourself. 

“Zelda,” you breathed.

Her lace mask dangled from her fingers. You didn’t know what to say. You’d been helping Zelda ever since the coven had fallen on misfortune, working with her to look after the young witches and warlocks left in her care. 

“I didn’t realise you would be here,” you said, trying to recover your composure.

“Did you not?” she asked, “I sent you an invitation and you thought I would not show my face tonight?”

“You never signed your name,” you replied.

“I suppose I didn’t,” she said, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

“Why did you send the invitation?” you asked.

“I wanted to spend a pleasant evening in some exquisite company,” she replied, “would you have preferred I ask someone else?”

“No,” you said too quickly, “thank you.”

You smoothed your hands over your skirt, looking down at the light fabric. You were the day to her night, the stark difference never more obvious than it was now.

A finger lifted your chin, forcing you to look at her. She reached behind you, untying your mark to expose your face to her. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as she looked you over, her eyes intense. You knitted your fingers together, waiting for her assessment.

“Beautiful,” she whispered, before kissing you, your mask falling from her hands.  
You threaded your arms around her neck as she gripped your waist. Your voluminous skirts made it hard to get close but you did your best to press yourself against her. She was so warm, her hands comforting on your body. 

You’d dreamt of this, of having her in your arms but between looking after the coven and her sham of a marriage you had pushed the thoughts from your mind. It helped no one. But it didn’t stop your mind from wandering into dangerous territory. 

She drew back, holding you tightly to keep you from moving. You moved your arms, draping them over her shoulders rather than wrapped around her neck. Music from inside filtered out to you, faint but wrapping around you in the sweet night air.

“May I have this dance?” she asked.

“You may.”


	18. Back (Zelda/Reader)

You hadn’t realised the name Greendale was known to you until you stepped foot in the town. You’d wandered through the streets of the quaint town, trying to knit together the image in your head with the one in front of you. It had not been described as you found it. Nor could you have imagined it being the home of the witch you were looking for.

You’d wandered past lit up houses, families inside sitting down for dinner. You’d smiled to yourself, enjoying the feeling of the town. It was the kind of place you would have once loved to live in. 

Spellman Mortuary was exactly the kind of thing you’d expected. A big, imposing house surrounded by a small cemetery and the woods. The windows had been lit up in warm light, the inner workings hidden behind the curtains. 

You’d skipped up the stairs, knocking on the door. A shadow had grown closer and closer until the door was pulled open by the one witch you were looking for. You’d smiled wide as her face darkened.

“Hi Zelds,” you’d said. 

Smoke had curled around her from her lit cigarette. She’d stepped outside, closing the door behind her as if to keep you from invading her home. You knew you wouldn’t be able to step over the threshold no matter how hard you tried. You knew she knew that as well. 

“You had better have a very good reason for being here,” she’d snapped.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” you’d asked, your smile falling into a smirk. You’d known the answer but the way her mouth had tightened and the blood had drained from her face had brought you so much pleasure. 

“You need to leave,” she’d said, turning to leave you.

“I need you, Zelds,” you’d said, stopping her in her tracks, “please.”

“You are no longer welcome here.”

Despite this she’d housed you at the Academy, far from the students. You followed the rules she’d set down; no interaction with the students, no feasting on the students, no leaving the grounds. You had done all you could to get her on side. You hadn’t realised how much you’d missed her until that moment you’d seen her in the doorway.

All that changed when you received a note just as dusk was falling. 

You showed up at her house, enjoying your first taste of freedom in months. Her visits most nights had done little to quench your thirst for her, and you weren’t talking about her blood. You had yearned for her, the way you had once yearned for your mortal life. You only felt alive with her. If your heart still beat, it would be going so fast every single time she opened your door.

She was waiting on the porch for you, a glass of wine in one hand, her cigarette holder in the other. She looked at you over the top of her reading glasses as you walked up the stairs towards her. You swayed your hips, watching as her tongue unconsciously licked over her bottom lip.

“You called?” you sing songed.

“Inside,” she said, ‘now.”

You followed her into the house, her command enough of an invitation to let you past the threshold. You followed behind her, enjoying the view as she led you into the living room.

She turned around and you opened your mouth to ask why you were there only to find her grabbing your hips and pushing you against the wall. You looked down at her, an eyebrow raised as she held you against her wall. 

“Is there something I can help you with?” you asked.

“Shut up,” she growled.

You watched her eyes darken as she looked you over, her eyes lingering at your low cut dress. You bit down on your lower lip, watching a flush grow high on her cheeks. She grabbed your wrists, pinning them to the wall as she pressed her body against yours. You ran your nose along the length of hers, the familiar spice of her blood invading your senses. It had lingered around your apartment months after she’d left, the ghost of her presence all you had left to hold on to.

“Are you going to defile me, Zelda Spellman?” you asked.

“If you’ll let me,” she replied.

You kissed her, the heat of her as intoxicating as her perfume. She kept you pinned to the wall and you ached to break her hold so you could touch her. You knew you had the strength but you didn’t want to do anything that could risk serious injury.

Her fingernails were digging into your skin in just the way you’d missed. Her tongue ran over your fangs, unrestrained as your thoughts had flown from your head with the passion of her kiss. She pushed one of her legs between yours, effectively keeping you trapped as she consumed you with the fire of her kisses.

You moaned into her mouth, following her as she drew back. She chuckled at the whine that fell from your lips, keeping you pinned to the wall.

“I’ve missed you,” she said.

“Zelds, I’ve missed you too,” you said, “so much.”

Her kiss was all consuming. She finally let your wrists go and you immediately grasped her hips, pulling her more securely against you. Her fingers tangled in your hair, tugging on the strands hard enough to draw a hiss from you. 

“So I’m back?” you asked.

“You’re back.”

You dug your fingers into the flesh of her hips, pulling her in for another kiss. She cradled your face, turning the heat down into a sweet kiss.

“I want you to move in here,” she said, pushing your hair behind your ear.

“Even with your family in the house?” you asked.

“I’d love for you to meet them.”

You kissed her again.


	19. Batwoman (Prudence/Reader)

The scream had come from nowhere. It had split the night air, making your skin crawl. The terror was palpable. You rushed through the night, swooping through the air to find the source of the scream.

You saw a body falling down the face of the cliff in the distance, their back arching as their arms were held out either side of their body. You flew faster, doing your best to reach them before they hit the ground. The icy wind was hurting the exposed skin below your mask. Your heart was loud in your ears. 

You caught the body, just before she hit the ground. You were gasping for breath as was the beautiful girl in your arms. The breath had been knocked from you from the impact. You swooped up, away from the hard ground below. Her arms were around your neck, holding you in a tight grip. Her face was pressed into your shoulder, the wind whipping around you.

You flew up, towards the top of the cliff. You assumed this beautiful woman had been pushed from the cliff based on the scream she’d let out as she’d fallen. You were willing to fight whoever had done it, because no one deserved to be pushed like that.

You landed on the cliff face, light on your feet. Three young women were standing on the edge of the cliff, watching you. One had tear tracks down her face, her pale skin glowing in the night. Another was staring at you, anger burning in her eyes, while the third was gaping at you. 

“Which one of you did it?” you asked.

“Prudence,” the blonde girl gasped. 

“And who is Prudence?” you asked.

“She is,” the darker of the three replied.

You looked down at the woman in your arms. She was looking at you, the terror of her fall finally disappearing form her face. You set her down, ready to catch her but her legs were steady. The red head rushed at you, flinging her arms around Prudence’s neck. 

“Calm yourself, Sister,” she said, hugging the other girl.

“Are you okay?” the blonde asked.

“I’m fine,” she said, “thanks to my savour.”

She disentangled herself from her sister’s arms, turning to look at you. You smiled at her, wondering about these four girls. There was no reason for them to be on the top of a cliff in the middle of the night. But you couldn’t help but be glad they had been, or else you might not have been here.

“Thank you for catching me,” Prudence said, taking a step towards you.

“Yes, thank you,” the red head said.

“That was incredible,” the blonde said.

“Thank you for saving out sister,” the darker one said.

“All in a night’s work,” you replied, sharing your smile around.

Prudence took another step towards you. You directed your attention back to her. She ran her finger along your shoulder, smoothing out the wrinkles left over from your feat of power. You gave her an indulgent smile, despite the thumping of your heart. 

“Will I see you again?” she asked.

Perhaps,” you replied, stepping past her to stand at the cliff edge, “if you’re lucky.”

You jumped, extending your wings to swoop away in the darkness. You knew you’d be working to find her again, wanting to know more about Prudence. And from the looks o it, she wanted to know more about you too.


	20. Hurting (Zelda/Reader)

You didn’t like talking about the darkness you carried with yourself every day. You didn’t like letting people know how bad it could be. You would rather keep it hidden within you. It was no one’s problem except yours and you didn’t want to burden anyone with it. Not even the Spellmans.

You’d first met the Spellmans years ago when you’d moved to Greendale for a job at the high school. You’d moved into the house just down the road from them. You’d grown used to watching the lights from their house through the trees as darkness had descended on the world. Part of you had wanted to reach out, to meet them the way your mother always told you to, but there was something that had held you back. They seemed to otherworldly to you.

Hilda had turned up on your doorstep with her young niece, holding a large chocolate cake. You’d invited them both in for a cup of tea and a slice of the cake they’d brought to welcome you to the neighbourhood. You’d returned the favour a few days later, meeting the enigmatic Zelda and their nephew. Hilda had welcomed you with open arms and the rest had followed soon after. You had become a regular in their house, spending evenings talking over glasses of wine and cups of tea. 

Tonight you’d forgone your daily visit.

You thought you’d locked the door before hiding in your sanctuary. You’d thought you’d taken your usual precautions. You’d thought you’d been careful.

You hadn’t heard the knock on the door or the creak as it was pushed open. You’d been so caught up in the sweet relief of pain you hadn’t noticed the witch standing in your doorway. You sliced the blade into the skin of your thigh, watching the blood pool. You wiped it away, looking at the letter now carved into your flesh.

You heard a sharp intake of breath. Your head snapped up, looking at the doorway. Zelda was standing there, staring at you. Her face was inscrutable. 

“Zelda,” you breathed.

She walked towards you, taking the blade out of your hand. She set it aside, crouching down in front of you. She took your other hand, holding both. You looked down at her, feeling the hot shame sweep over you, the tears gathering in your eyes. 

“It’s okay,” she said.

The tears fell down your cheeks. She reached up, wiping them away but the flow was too strong. She sat beside you, putting her arms around you. You fell into her, pressing your face into her shoulder. She held you as you cried because there was nothing else you could do. 

She didn’t let you go, not for a second. She waited with you until the waves of tears had swept over you. Once they were done she wiped your face clean, cupping your cheeks as she looked in your eyes. You wanted to look away, ashamed at her finding you like this.

“Do you want to talk about what I just witnessed?” she asked.

You shook your head, pulling away from her. She put her hand on your knee, stopping you from getting up. Her thumb ran over the cut on your skin, earning a hiss from you. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said.

“No, it’s okay,” you said, not wanting her to be looking after you like a child. 

She kept you in place with a look. You watched as she cleaned your cuts, bandaging them to keep them from bleeding. She pressed a kiss to the bandage on your thigh, as if that would make it better.

“I used to flagellate myself in punishment for my perceived weaknesses,” she said, “until Hilda caught me.”

She looked up at you. You blinked, not sure what she was getting at. 

“If my sister had not helped, I might still be hurting myself. I couldn’t have done it without her.”

She ran her thumb over the edge of the bandage on your leg. 

“We’ll get through this,” she said, “together.”

You fell into her arms again, the tears already falling. She held you tight, alternating between whispering reassurances and pressing kisses to the top of your head.


	21. Supergirl (Prudence/Reader)

The scream rent the night air. Without thinking you flew through the night towards it, the terror enough to send your heart beating fast. The full moon hung heavy in the sky, bathing the world in silver light. You raced forward, trying to find the source of the scream. 

A body was falling through the air, the wind whipping its clothes. You sped up, breaking the sound barrier as you caught the body before it hit the hard rocks at the base of the cliff. The scream cut off. You flew up, into the night. The girl clung to you, her arms in a vice like grip around your neck. 

You looked up, three faces peeking over the edge of the cliff, watching your ascent. You flew up, hovering at the edge of the cliff, out of reach of the three teenagers. 

“Which one of you did it?” you asked.

They didn’t answer, watching you as stared back at them. You held the girl in your arms close, doing your best to be comforting but not sure what she needed.

“Which one of you pushed her off this cliff?” you asked again.

“They did not,” a weak voice said.

You looked down at the girl in your arms. She was looking at you, wide eyed but no linger scared.

“Don’t make excuses for them,” you said.

“I’m not,” she replied, “it was an accident.”

“But one of them pushed you?” you asked.

“No. They would never dare.”

You touched down on the edge of the cliff. You set her down, keeping your arm around her waist until she was steady enough to step away from you. You looked at the four girls, wondering what they were doing on the top of a cliff in the middle of the night. 

“I know you.”

You looked over at the blonde girl, standing bathed in the moonlight. She was looking at you, head cocked to one side. You grinned at her.

“I’m sure you do,” you said.

“You’re the one calling herself Supergirl,” she said.

“At your service,” you said, giving a small bow.

“Thank you,” the girl you’d caught said, touching your arm. You snapped your attention back to her, “for saving me.”

“It was my pleasure.” You gave her a softer smile.

She stepped into your personal space, looking you over. If you had less experience you might have blushed. As it was your heart skipped a beat.

“Can I see you again?” she asked.

“Maybe,” you said, “if you’re lucky.”

You turned around before you could make a fool of yourself, jumping off the cliff. You swooped low over the forest. You hoped you’d see her again. Although preferably without the plummeting to her death part. You wanted to know her, in every way.


	22. Not Scared (Mambo Marie/Reader)

You’d known that witches had been called to your home to help fight the pagans waging war against your coven. What you hadn’t expected was Mambo Marie.

You had been mesmerised by her the moment you’d seen her, the absolute command with which she controlled the room. It reminded you of the way people spoke about your Aunt Zee, not that you’d ever noticed. Your brother had teased you about what he called your schoolgirl crush. You had punched him each time he did. 

You decided to take some fresh air, away from the cloying presence of the other witches. You needed to clear your head, away from Mambo Marie and the way she made your head feel too full. You took your sword from the umbrella stand, strapping it to your back and walking out into the cool air. This had always been your go to when life got too overwhelming, starting with your parents’ death. 

You waited in the forest, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in. The scent of rain and dirt filled your nostrils, the air cool against your skin. You drew your sword form the scabbard on your back, the quiet swish already lightening the weight on your shoulders. You balanced the weight of it in your hands, familiarising yourself with your beloved sword again.

You’d spent the last week making a fool of yourself in front of the powerful witch from New Orleans. She was so different from everything you knew, her approach to witchcraft like nothing you’d seen before. You’d spent so many years listening to your aunts that your way was the right way to be a witch. You hadn’t realised there were other ways to live.

Every single time Mambo Marie talked to you it was like every thought flew out of your head. You’d open your mouth, waiting for something to come out but nothing would. You’d be left flushing and turning tail to run. On the few occasions you were in the same room without her speaking to you, you’d be glancing at her continually, sometimes catching her eye, which would only lead to more blushing. 

She was always kind, bestowing smiles upon you which always set butterflies going off in your stomach. You couldn’t understand your reaction to her after such a short amount of time. It was as if meeting her had opened your eyes to a world you never knew existed. 

“That is quite impressive, ma cherie.”

You snapped your eyes open, dropping the sword from your hands. You yelped, jumping back, trying to avoid the sharp blade. You looked up, finding Mambo Marie leaning against the trunk of a tree, watching you. She had a soft smile on her face. You flushed.

“Would you like to have someone to train with?” she asked, shrugging off the tree trunk.

“Oh, uh.” You ducked to pick up your sword, “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“It is not a bother,” she said, walking towards you, “it would be a pleasure.”

She was practically purring as she walked towards you. You flushed, dropping your eyes down to your feet. The blade hung from your hand, pointing towards the mulch of leaves beneath your feet. 

A warm hand landed on your arm and you dragged your attention back up to the other witch. She was looking at you with such interest you felt the heat bloom in your cheeks again. 

“Would you prefer if I left you alone?” she asked, “I do not want to force my presence on you.”

“No.” Your voice was too loud for how close she was to you, “you wouldn’t be forcing yourself on me.”

“But you are not comfortable,” she said, getting to the crux of your problem.

You looked away from her again, tightening your grip on the hilt of the sword. She squeezed your arm, bringing your attention back to her.

“Do you not want me in your house?” she asked.

“No, I love having you there.” You flushed again, “I like having you here.”

She smiled at you again, all brightness. You gave her a hesitant smile back, not sure what was going through her head. Your heart was beating fast and you thought she might be able to hear it.

“Do I scare you?” she asked.

You shook your head. She pushed your hair behind your ears it fell in your face. You blinked, feeling like a deer in the headlights. She gently cupped your cheek.

“Or is it something else, ma cherie?” she asked.

You couldn’t answer. You watched as she grew closer. Her lips pressed against yours in a sweet kiss, your eyes closing automatically. The sword fell from your hand again as you brought your hands up to hover over her, not quite brave enough to touch. 

She kissed you again, more insistent this time, coaxing you to kiss her back. You finally put your hands on her waist, not quite able to believe this was happening. She pulled you closer, letting out a pleasantly surprised noise as you slid your hands up her back, pushing her body against yours. 

“Not scared then,” she said when she drew away.

“Not scared,” you replied before kissing her again.


	23. Trapped (Zelda/Reader)

The afternoons when your father was at work were your favourite. You could relax in the living room or the kitchen or the garden without having to look over your shoulder constantly. However, when the doorbell rang it made your stomach churn. Visitors were never a good sign.

You pulled the door open, wondering if you’d be met with a cop or your father swaying on his feet, ready to shout about you not reminding him to bring his keys with him. Instead you were met with a blonde woman holding a cake that was almost bigger than you. 

“Hi there, love. I’ve bought over a cake to say hello and see how you’re enjoying the neighbourhood,” she said.

You and your father had moved to Greendale about a month ago after having to leave the last town when he’d been fired from every available job. You tugged on the neck of your sweater, looking over her shoulder. A teenage girl was standing behind her. She gave you a smile.

“I’m Hilda and this is my niece Sabrina. We live just up the road in that big house,” the woman in front of you said, pointing up the road. You blinked at her.

“Can we come in?” she asked.

You glanced over her shoulder again, wondering if your father would be home soon. He would go mental if you let strangers into the house without his permission. You looked over your shoulder to read the clock. You figured you had enough time if they didn’t take too long.

You shrugged and held the door open for them. Hilda smiled at you as she trotted past. You closed the door behind them, taking one final look up the road. You led them into the kitchen, assuming they would want to try the cake and would be expecting a cup of tea. That’s what tv had told you to do when guests arrived.

You set the kettle on the stove top, setting out cups and plates at the table. You took a knife out of the drawer, startling when Hilda took it out of your hands.

“Let me, dear.”

You watched her cutting into the cake, removing a perfect slice to be put on the plate. You felt your mouth water. It had been so long since you’d something as decadent as a cake. The kettle began to whistle.

You poured the water into the teapot, imagining the change of the colour. You loved to watch it when you used tea bags. This was not a tea bag situation.

“Are you okay?” 

You jumped, finding Sabrina at your shoulder. Her eyes were settled on your neck. You tugged on your sweater again. You were painfully aware of the bruises there and the thought of anyone seeing them, of understanding how you got them, filled you with so much fear you could throw up. You nodded, hoping it would be enough. She took the teapot out of your hands, carrying it over to the table.

They artfully talked around the obvious issues in your house, filling the silence you couldn’t. You watched them, the obvious affection between the two of them. It was hard to imagine real families actually liked each other, let alone loved each other. You listened to them talk about their town and their lives, entertaining you over cake and tea.

It led to you becoming a regular in their house whenever you needed a break from your father. You met the enigmatic Zelda and the charming Ambrose and would sit for hours just watching a functional family. It also made your heart swell when you realised there were people who cared about you, who continually checked in with you. Now if you your father went too far, you knew there were people who would care.

Which was the thought going through your head when your father had his hands around your neck, sitting on your chest, squeezing. Your fingernails were scrabbling at his skin, trying to get him off you. You couldn’t breath, dark spots beginning to cloud your vision. You were losing strength and the only thing you could see was the anger in his face. All because dinner still wasn’t ready. 

“Enough!”

You felt your father fly off you, slamming into the wall across the room. You gasped, trying to get as much air into your lungs as possible. Everything hurt. 

“You will never,” you looked over, a heel foot entering your vision, “touch her again.”

You watched as he was was pulled up the wall, his face turning bright red. He was spluttering, clawing at his own neck. You sat up, watching as he kicked, struggling against the hold that was on him. Zelda had her hand raised, a cold anger rolling off her. You watched as your father began to turn purple. 

“Zelda,” you rasped. Her hand tightened in the air. You pushed yourself to your feet, grabbing her arm, “stop.”

She turned to look at you. You shook your head at her.

“Let him go.”

“He was going to kill you.” Her voice was cold, colder than anything you’d ever heard.

“I know.”

She dropped her hand, your father crumpling to the floor. You looked at his body, gasping for breath the way you had been. You jumped when an arm was placed around you.

“Come on,” Zelda said, “I’m not letting you stay here anymore.”

You let her lead you out of the house, not looking back at your father. Her hands were soft on you, the ice from earlier having melted. She didn’t say anything until she got you back to the Spellman house. She settled you in her chair on the porch, turning your face into the light.

She tutted, gently brushing your hair from your neck. You winced, jerking back from her. She took your hand in her’s, patting your knee. 

“It’s okay, you can trust me,” she said.

“I know I can.”

She blinked, maybe realising you were talking for perhaps the first time in her presence. She held her hands up again.

“Can I?”

You nodded, letting her inspect your neck. You’d been choked before but never to the point where you might pass out. She tutted again, leaning back on her heels.

“You’re not to go back there,” she said.

“I know.”

“Come on,” she said, holding her hand out to you. You took it, clutching it like a lost kid, “we have a room set up for you.”

You followed her into what you hoped would be your future.


	24. Pigeon (Zelda/Reader/Mambo Marie)

“Why is there a pigeon flying around the kitchen?”

Marie looked up from her book but Zelda stayed behind her newspaper. You stood in the doorway, arms crossed over your chest, waiting for an answer. The silence stretched on without either saying anything.

“If I wanted to talk to myself, I would. Do either of you know why there is a live pigeon in the kitchen and can I get rid of it?”

“Ma cherie, if we knew why we would give you an answer,” Marie answered, rising from the armchair.

“Perhaps it is an experiment of my misguided sister’s,” Zelda said, still not appearing from around the paper. 

You huffed and walked out, back into the kitchen. The pigeon was cooing from up on the ceiling. You craned your neck to watch it ruffle its feathers. It looked unhappy being trapped in the house as opposed to free in the world. It hadn’t been there that morning.

It had been one thing after another all day and finding your girlfriends so unhelpful when you came to them was the final straw. You pushed out of the room, hurrying outside. The pigeon could be someone else’s problem. You’d had enough. 

“Where are you going?” 

Marie was standing in the doorway, watching you. You stomped down the stairs, looking away from her.

“For a walk. Don’t follow me.”

You stormed off into the forest, knowing you needed time to calm down. It wasn’t their fault the day have been filled with problems but you couldn’t help but be frustrated. All you wanted was a little support. 

You sunk down onto a tress stump. You buried your head in your hands, taking some deep breaths. After all the problems with the pagans, and the trouble Sabrina had been causing, all you needed was time to relax. You didn’t need to be the coven’s only problem solver. 

“If you wish to keep acting like a child we can start treating you like one.”

You sighed, looking up to find an unimpressed Zelda standing in front of you. A warm body sat beside yours, close on the small tree stump. You looked over, finding Marie smiling at you.

“All I wanted was an answer,” you said, “or some help.”

“If I required back chat I would go talk to Sabrina and her friends,” Zelda snapped.

“And if I wanted to get no answer I’d go talk to a brick wall.”

“Stop,” Marie said, glaring between you and Zelda, “we do not have to fight.”

You felt appropriately chastised, looking down at your wringing hands. You weren’t looking for a fight. You were looking for some support.

“I’m sorry,” you said, “I’m just frustrated.”

“And we are sorry for not answering your question, ma cherie,” Marie said.

You rested your head on her shoulder, letting her put her arm around you and pull you close. A warm hand cupped your cheek and you watched as Zelda threaded her fingers through Marie’s. You looked up at her.

“What can we do to help?” she asked.

“Get rid of the pigeon,” you said.

Zelda lent down, pressing her lips to yours. Marie pressed a kiss to the top of your head, giving you an extra squeeze. They pulled you up from the tree stump, Marie keeping her arm around your waist while Zelda held your hand. 

“Let’s get rid of that pigeon.”


	25. A Fondness (Zelda/Reader)

Some days you cursed the day your little brother Nick met Sabrina. If he hadn’t then you wouldn’t be thrown together with Zelda Spellman so frequently and then your heart wouldn’t constantly feel like it was beating out of your chest. And then you wouldn’t feel the awkwardness between the two of you now that Sabrina and Nick were fighting. 

You did your best to keep the feelings from being too obvious on your face. You weren’t known for your poker face but you tried to push them down until they were almost non-existent. It was better this way. After everything the coven had gone through, after everything your families had gone through, after realising Zelda would never be interested in someone like you, it was better to ignore the possible feelings that might be growing in your chest.

You blinked when Zelda was the one to open the door. Her eyes ran over your body, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.

“I need to talk to Sabrina,” you said.

“What has my misguided niece done this time?” she asked with a sigh.

“More like what has my misguided younger brother done,” you replied, “I need to, not smooth things over with them, but try and, I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m going to say.”

“Well, you’d better come in then,” she said, opening the door wider for you.

You stepped past her, her perfume washing over you. You squeezed your eyes shut, moving past her. You couldn’t have your thoughts muddled before this conversation. 

“Sabrina should be in her room.”

“Thanks.” You flashed a smile at her as you began to run up the stairs.

Zelda watched you go, tilting her head. Her tongue unconsciously swiped over her lower lip as she watched the sway of your hips. The front door shut with a loud bang, startling her. 

“Something on your mind, Auntie?” Ambrose asked with a smirk on his face.

“That is none of your business,” she snapped.

“You can tell us, can’t she Auntie Hilda?”

Zelda turned around, finding Hilda in the doorway to the kitchen. She was grinning, looking rather pleased with the situation, which did not sit well with Zelda. She wasn’t used to her family trying to meddle in her life in this way. She wouldn’t allow it.

“Oh yes, of course she can,” Hilda said.

“Of course, the one you should be telling is (Y/N),” Ambrose said.

“I’m sure she would be thrilled to know,” Hilda said.

“This is not a topic up for discussion,” Zelda snapped, walking past Hilda into the kitchen. 

She picked up a knife, beginning to slice the vegetables for dinner. She ignored the whispers from the other room as well as the voices filtering from up the stairs. She tried to push away the thought of slipping upstairs, stealing you from Sabrina’s room into her own, pushing you down on the bed and - 

“(Y/N) is staying for dinner. Isn’t that nice?”

Hilda was standing in front of her, you behind her. Zelda caught your eye and you smiled so brightly she couldn’t say no. She watched as you settled yourself at the table, talking with Sabrina like your brother hadn’t broken her heart. It was nice, your voice washing over her as she cooked with her sister. It made her crave something she couldn’t put into words. 

You kept sneaking glances at Zelda as she worked alongside Hilda. You couldn’t help it. She was the brightest thing in the room to you, a magnet that drew you in. You could have spent hours watching her without getting bored. 

The meal was delicious, just as every meal you’d had at the Spellman house had been. It had been a while since you’d eaten there, staying away to keep out of the teenage drama your brother seemed to carry with him at all times. You’d missed it more than you thought you would.

The family filtered off as the meal finished, seemingly by some secret agreement. You were left sitting at the table with Zelda. She was swirling her drink in her glass, a lit cigarette in hand. It was an image you’d grown accustomed to over the short time you’d known her. 

“My family appears to have grown quite meddlesome in things that do not concern them,” she said, but you couldn’t tell if it was directed to you. She was still watching the amber liquid swirl in the glass.

“Doesn’t that come with the Spellman name?” you asked.

She looked up at you, eyebrow quirked. You smiled, hoping you weren’t overstepping. You knew not everyone appreciated your teasing and the straight laced Spellman sister seemed like she would not.

“I suppose you’re right.”

She downed her drink and stubbed her cigarette out. She got up, settling herself in the chair beside you. Her arm settled on the back of your chair as she lent towards you. You became awash in her perfume again. You took a deep breath, okay with the way it muddied your thoughts now your serious conversation with Sabrina was done. 

“There is something I would like discuss with you,” she said.

“I hope it’s not serious,” you laughed. She did not.

“It would seem that I have developed a fondness for you,” she said.

“A fondness?”

“Are you going to make me say it?” she asked quirking an eyebrow.

“Say what?” you asked.

She drew closer and closer until you couldn’t see her properly. Her lips were soft against yours, the taste of whiskey still on her tongue. You cupped her cheek as her fingers threaded through your hair. Your heart was beating loud and you couldn’t trust this was real. This was not where you thought your day would go. 

“A fondness,” you whispered when she drew away.


	26. A New Beginning (Zelda/Reader)

You tried to ignore the reasons that led you to this point. You pushed the memories down as far as they would go, squashing them under the thoughts that always came with moving house. You tried to bury them with thoughts of paint colours and moving people and packing. It helped, for a little bit. And then you were left in a huge empty house with nothing but your thoughts. 

You kept yourself isolated, assuming that would be better. If you made on friends, if you kept yourself isolated, you couldn’t be left heartbroken. You couldn’t be run out of town. 

Hearing the doorbell ringing, therefore, was not a welcome sound.

You considered leaving it until whoever it was went away. You found isolating yourself and refusing to be friendly to the locals tended to lead to longevity when it came to a new town. Being left alone was what was best. 

The doorbell continued ringing.

You sighed, pushing your hair behind your ear as you climbed off the sofa. The glass of wine clinked as you put it down on the glass topped coffee table. The ringing was a pain, drilling into your brain, mixed with the nausea roiling in your stomach at the thought of being met with torches and pitchforks. 

You pulled the door open, surprised by the family gathered on your doorstep. You waited for them to say something but the short blonde woman was smiling hard at you while the red head was staring at you with a steely glint in her eyes. The young man was looking up at the exterior of your house and the teenager was looking behind you into your house. 

“Can I help you?” you eventually asked, practically able to feel the rudeness rolling off you.

“We’ve come to welcome you to town. We’ve brought a cake and some jam and a load of bread. We thought since we hadn’t seen you around town we should pop on over and say hello. So, hello,” the blonde woman said rather faster than you were expecting.

“We live in the house up the road,” the red head said, motioning over her shoulder.

“The mortuary?” you asked, scrunching your face in confusion.

“That’s the one,” the blonde woman said.

“So you’re the Spellmans?” you asked.

“In the flesh,” the blonde woman said with a smile.

“You have a cemetery in your front garden,” you said.

“Yes, we do,” the woman said.

The silence settled over you as you waited for them to do something more than say they wanted to welcome you. You figured they were able to fill the silence without your input. And if they couldn’t they could leave. 

“I’m Hilda, and this is my sister Zelda, and our nephew Ambrose and niece Sabrina,” Hilda said, looking at each member of her family with a nervous smile.

“Hi,” you said to them.

“Oh, here.” She turned away from you, taking a basket from Ambrose’s hands. She held it out to you. You looked down at it, finding the cake and the jam and the bread she’d promised. You took it from her, not really sure what to do with it.

Zelda held a hand out to you. You looked down from it back to her. Her look brooked no argument so you took it, surprised at how warm and steady it was in yours. You looked back at her as she shook your hand your heart missing a beat. You licked your lips. Electricity ran over your skin. It had been so long since you’d felt anything close to this. 

“Do you want to come in?” you asked.

“Thank you,” she said, dropping your hand. 

You held the door open, taking a deep breath in as she walked past you. The scent of wet dirt and cigarette smoke followed her. You closed the door once the rest of the family was inside. You squeezed your eyes closed, trying to get your heartbeat back under control.

This could not end well.


	27. Guardian Angel (Dorcas/Reader)

You were standing at the bottom of a cliff, using your wing to shade you from the sun beating down on you. You’d heard from some fellow angels that the Earth your God had built was spectacular. The beauty He bestowed upon the world was beyond what you could imagine, especially when other angels considered it to be wasted on the mortals. But surely they deserved beauty in their short life time just as much as those who got into Heaven. 

You looked up into the sky, the blue so bright and deep it filled your heart with His love. You smiled ,feeling the wind waft across your skin, ruffling the feathers in your wings. You smiled, closing your eyes, feeling the heat warm your skin.

A scream rent the air, disturbing your peace. You looked up, finding a body topple over the edge of the cliff. You shot into the air, your wings beating against the pull of gravity to reach the person screaming.

You slammed into them, your arms wrapping around the small body. The scream continued as your wings flapped, keeping you in same spot. You looked down, finding a teenage mortal girl, red hair braided into a crown on her head. Her skin was pale and so vulnerable and you could feel her heart beating so fast, like a little bird. 

You readjusted your hold on her to keep her more securely in your arms. The scream died off as big eyes blinked open to look at you. You held your breath, surprised at how desperately you wanted her to look on you with kindness and friendship. 

“You saved me,” she said.

“That is my purpose,” you said, “to look after humans.”

Her eyes looked behind you, at your wings still flapping against the force of gravity. They widened and you realised she probably hadn’t realised your divine nature. 

You lowered yourself back to the ground, your feet touching down on the cool grass. You placed her down, letting her get her feet underneath her. She couldn’t seem to stop looking at your wings stretching high above you. 

“You’re an angel,” she said.

“I am,” you replied, slowly blinking at her.

“I didn’t think angels showed themselves to my kind,” she said.

“There have been many recorded instances of angels making themselves known to mortals.” You tilted your head.

“I’m not a mortal,” she admitted, “I’m a witch.”

“Ah.”

You knew of the children of Lucifer, the women he had gifted powers to in exchange for their subjugation. Your god had allowed it, assuming after a time His fallen children would rejoin him. You had never encountered a witch. They so rarely crossed into heaven.

“You are still a child of this earth,” you said, “you are worthy of saving,”

Surprise washed over her face followed by a blindingly bright smile. You smiled in return, the beauty of His work before you. 

“Will I ever see you again?” she asked.

“You shall see me often,” you replied, “I’m quite enjoying Earth.”

“Good.”

She smiled at you again and you knew this would be the right thing.


	28. Bed Troubles (Zelda/Reader/Lilith)

You had never realised how small your bed was until you were in the position of sharing it with two other women. The first night you hadn’t thought too much of it, so worn out from the exertion of the evening’s activities. The second night had been much the same.

Months later you had begun to realise how little space the three of you had when they slept over at your house. You were kept securely between the two witch’s bodies, in the centre of the mattress. The other two would curl around you, their limbs tangled together to hold themselves on the bed while they slept. You hadn’t realised how much of a problem is was until Zelda rolled over in the middle of the night and landed on the floor with a thump. She’d stormed out of your house to return home despite it being the middle of the night. 

You figured if you wanted them to stay, to not refuse to ever set foot in your house again, you’d have to do something about the bed situation.

You hadn’t seen either Zelda or Mary for a few days, but had invited them over for dinner. You ensured the delivery van had left early in the day, spending the rest of the time assembling the furniture you had bought. You had been a ball of nervous energy until they arrived for the meal.

You listened to their snarky conversation, bouncing in your seat until they were done. As soon as they had finished you jumped up, grabbing both of their hands and dragging them up the stairs of your house.

“Someone is eager tonight,” Zelda said. You could imagine the single eyebrow raised at Mary and the answering smirk.

You kicked the bedroom door open, pushing the two other woman in. You stood behind them, bouncing on your toes while they stared into the room.

“Is there something we’re meant to be looking at?” Mary asked, turning to look at you.

“I got a new bed,” you said, your shoulders beginning to droop, “it’s way bigger.”

“Was there a problem with the other one?” Zelda asked, now also turning to look at you.

“Well… it was really small,” you said, “we didn’t all fit on it, right? So I figured it would be good if I got a bigger one, so people didn’t fall out and we could all fit and not be all over each other.”

“I like being all over you,” Zelda said, her smile turning feral.

“But you fell out last time you were here,” you said, “you stormed out.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t like being pressed up against you all night,” she said, beginning to stalk towards you, pressing you up against the doorframe, “especially when you have fewer clothes on.”

“There is something delicious about being so close to you when you’re bare to the world,” Mary said, crowding you in on the other side.

You gulped, looking between the two witches, so different in looks but with identical smiles. You were sure you were about to be eaten alive.

“I can change it back,” you squeaked.

“No reason to waste it,” Zelda said.

“Let’s put it to use,” Mary continued.

Needless to say, there was little complaining for the rest of the night.


	29. Hit and Run (Dorcas/Reader)

You were patrolling the streets, making sure everything was running smoothly. There had been an outbreak of crime in town lately, leaving you to fight crime every night. You were exhausted, but this was your job, the mantle you had taken up in the vacuum of crime fighting vigilante. 

It was a quiet night, almost suspiciously so. You sat on the roof of a building, your legs hanging off the side. You shook your hair out of your face, looking up at the night sky. The stars were sparkling above you, the moon lighting enough for you to see the shadows moving on the street below. 

A car rounded the corner with a screech, the headlights switched off. You watched it speed past, people crying out and jumping out of the way as it out mounted the curb. You sighed, standing up. You supposed one quiet night was too much to ask for.

You jumped off the building, swooping through the air. You followed behind, trying to see who was behind the wheel. You hoped it wasn’t a child that had stolen the keys to their parent’s car. It wouldn’t be the first time for you.

It careened out of town, out onto the road leading away from Greendale. You let out a long sigh, glad they were getting away from the public. 

You looked up, finding a group of teenagers standing on the road. You felt yourself freeze, just for a moment as the car sped towards them. You put on a burst of speed, watching most of the teenagers scatter from the road. One remained, staring at the approaching car, completely still.

You swooped down, scooping her up before the car could hit her. The other girls screamed. She wrapped her arms around your neck, burying her head in your shoulder. You tightened your arms around her, flying higher.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” you whispered. 

She made a whimpering noise, pressing her face harder into your shoulder.

“You’re safe,” you said.

You hovered, waiting for her to emerge. Slowly she did, looking up at you. She blinked, big eyes looking at you with wonder. You gave her a comforting smile, hoping it would calm her. She looked down and whimpered again. 

“Are you okay?” you asked.

She nodded but she looked pale. You began to lower down, the car already disappearing in the darkness. You landed, your feet touching down on the asphalt. You put the girl down, waiting for her to get her feet underneath her.

“Better?” you asked.

“Yes, thank you.” Her voice was shaky but colour was returning to her cheeks. 

You waited until the other girls approached. You smiled at them, handing the teenage over to the blonde girl, waiting until they were steady enough to stand on their own.

“I need to go deal with that,” you said, pointing over your shoulder where you could still hear the car.

You left them behind, chasing after the car that was already impossible to see. You couldn’t help but wonder what the four teenage girls had been doing on the road in the middle of the night. You hoped one day you’d find out.


	30. A Sleepless Night (The Weird Sisters/Reader)

Warm hands stroked over your skin, lips trialing over your body. You were arching towards the bodies, moaning as a pair of teeth sunk into your flesh. A hand brushed over your breast, a strangled groan falling from your lips. 

The girls above you giggled. You blinked your eyes open, watching the three girls staring down at you. You reached up, cupping Prudence’s cheek and pulling her into a kiss. A tongue traced down your chest, a mouth attaching to your nipple. 

You pressed your legs together, trying to get some friction to ease the throbbing between your legs. They giggled again.

You jerked away, sweat covering your body. The sheets were tangled around your body, holding you down. You struggled, sitting up and gasping for breath. The room was dark and you were alone. You pushed your hand through your hair, getting tangled in the knots. 

You fell back on the bed, pushing the heel of your hands into your closed eyes. Images from your dream kept flashing through your head. The tangle of limbs, the lips and the tongues, the wandering hands. Dreams from the rest of the week mixed in. Every night that week you’d had the same flavour of dream about the weird sisters and it was leaving you a blushing mess when you saw them.

Earlier that week you’d seen the three of them together in an abandoned classroom. You’d stood, watching through the crack in the door longer then you’d care to admit. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, feeling that familiar tingle each time you did. Part of you had wanted to join them. Part of you had been too scared.

You spent a sleepless night tossing and turning, plagued by the thought of pleasures the weird sisters could give you. 

You sat at the table, breakfast in front of you. You were pushing your eggs around with your fork, not able to get the motivation to eat. All you wanted was to be thrown down on the table by three beautiful but mean women and made to see heights of pleasure you never had before.

Warm breath ghosted over the back of your neck. You shivered, turning your head. Prudence grinned at you as she sat beside you, too close. You licked your lips.

“Are you not hungry, sister (Y/N)?” she asked.

“Oh, uh, no,” you replied.

“Or perhaps you’re hungry for something not on the menu?” Agatha asked, slipping into the seat across from you. 

“Can we help give you what you’re hungry for?” Dorcas asked, resting her chin in her hand.

You flushed, looking between the three of them. They were all looking at you, smiling as you tried to find your words. You squeaked instead.

“Would you like us to,” Prudence brushed your hair over your shoulder, her fingers lingering on your skin, “sate your hunger?”

You knocked over your cup, the orange juice spilling over the table. You got up from the table, stumbling over yourself. They all watched you, familiar smirks on their face. You turned tail and ran, leaving the dining hall as fast as possible.

You couldn’t handle this.


	31. Trapped Pt 2

You blinked. You were sitting on the front porch of the Spellman house, the smell of smoke in your hair. You looked down at your hands, finding ash and mud streaking your skin. Your body felt too hot and too cold. You coughed, your throat raw and painful.

The door creaked open. You turned to look up into the worried face fo Zelda. She stepped towards you, reaching a hand out towards you.

“Where have you been?” she asked.

You shook your head. You couldn’t explain it. You’d been in your room, lying on the bed thinking about the changes in your life and next thing you knew you were on the porch. You couldn’t even tell her how long you’d been there.

“What have you been doing?”

You shrugged. She lowered herself down beside you, putting her arm around your shoulders. She looked at your hands. In the distance you heard sirens.

“Come on,” she said, pulling you to your feet,” let’s get you washed up.”

She led you into the house, taking you upstairs into the bathroom. She ran a bath for you, settling you in. You wrapped your arms around your knees while she ran a warm flannel over your back. You could feel yourself crying, the tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“Zelds, the police are at the door. They want to talk to (Y/N),” Hilda’s voice rang through the door.

“Tell them I shall be right down, but (Y/N) will need to finish bathing first,” Zelda called. 

She cupped your face in her hands, making you look at her. Determination lined her face.

“Wash your hair, get rid of the smell of smoke. When the police ask you questions you’ve been here all night and you know nothing,” she said.

“But I don’t know anything,” you replied.

“Even better.”

You watched her walk out of the room. You absentmindedly washed your hair, still not understanding what had happened to lead you to this moment. You could still hear the distant sirens and the quiet voices drifting up from the living room.

You weren’t sure what you were going to do. You didn’t know what they were looking for. You couldn’t begin to understand what you did.

All you could do was what Zelda told you to.

You dried yourself off and pulled on the robe hanging on the back of the door. You pulled open the door, hesitating at the top of the stairs. 

“I’ll go see where she is.”

Zelda came through the living room door. She looked up at you, motioning you to join her at the bottom of the stairs. She gently cupped your cheek.

“Remember what I said,” she told you.

You nodded. She led you into the living room. Two cops were standing by the fire place. Hilda was sitting on the sofa with Sabrina and Ambrose, both of whom looked confused. Zelda settled in one of the armchairs. You took the other, looking at the cops.

“Miss (Y/N), can you tell us where you have been for the last four hours?” one of the cops asked.

“Here.” Your voice was quiet. You coughed, “here.”

“And can anyone corroborate that?” he asked.

“I can,” Zelda replied.

“Yes, she’s been here all night. Haven’t you, love?” Hilda said. 

You nodded again. She gave you an encouraging smile.

“When was the last time you saw your father?” the other cop asked.

You shrugged. You hadn’t been back since you’d walked out. Zelda had refused to let you go into town on your own, not wanting to risk a run in with him. You hadn’t wanted to leave the house. There was no part of you that wanted to see him again.

“Answer the question.”

“Not since I moved in here,” you said.

“And when was that?”

“A few months ago,” you replied.

“Have you been back to his house?”

“No.”

“Earlier tonight your father’s house was burnt down with your father still inside. I’m afraid he didn’t survive,” the second cop said.

You wanted to feel something but there was nothing. You blinked at him. 

“We can’t be sure yet if the fire was deliberate or an accident. We need to rule out options before we can come to a conclusion. If we have any further questions we’ll be back.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” the first cop said.

Zelda ushered them out of the door. You lent back in the chair, letting out a long sigh. Your father was dead. And you probably did it.


	32. The Demon Inside (Zelda/Reader)

You hadn’t expected to find the portal to hell waiting for you in the forest. Nor had you expected to find Zelda in front of it, chanting in Latin while fire was spitting at her. You stood on the outskirts, in the tree line of the clearing, watching the power role off the witch in front of you. It was awe inspiring.

You watched as she fell to her knees, thrusting her hands into the air. Wind began to whip through her hair, sparks flying through the air. You watched as something began to claw its way out of the hole in the ground. You squinted, trying to see what was crawling its way towards the witch. 

You felt your heart stop, the shadow growing closer. You opened your mouth. One dark clawed hand swiped towards Zelda. You let out a shriek. The wind continued to whip around you, snatching your voice away. The dark hand missed Zelda. A dark body crawled further out, reaching towards her. 

You didn’t remember moving forward but next thing you knew you were pushing Zelda to one side. She fell beside you as the dark shadow lunged at you. You screamed, feeling your soul being pierced with the pain of red hot needles. 

You fell back, clutching at your chest. You jerked up then fell back down. You squeezed your eyes closed, feeling something move through your body. You let out a whimper.

Cool hands pressed against your cheeks. You moaned, trying to get away from the them, whipping your head from side to side. The hands gripped you tighter, turning your head upwards. Soft hair ran over your skin as you felt whoever it was lean closer to you.

“Why would you do that?”

You let out a keening noise. You felt your hair pushed off your face, fingers pressing into your temples. A cry bubbled up in your chest.

“It’s going to be okay,” the voice said, “you’re going to be just fine.”

You forced your eyes open. Zelda was kneeling over you, her eyes worried as she forced you to look at her. You gripped her wrist, not sure what you were trying to do. She held onto you as the the pain moved through your body.

“Do you trust me?” she asked.

You nodded. She ran her hands down to your shoulders, pressing you into the ground. She lowered her head, beginning to mutter over you. You felt something in your chest try to break through your ribs. Your body jerked up, your back arching off the forest floor. You let out a strangled sob as you thought a rib might crack. 

Zelda began to shout above you. You thrashed your head away from her. She put her palm flat on the centre of your chest, pushing you down. You struggled against her.

Something slammed into your heart. You screamed. Something pushed through your chest, forcing its way out of your body. You writhed against the ground, fighting against both the pain and the hold Zelda had on you. You shrieked.

You fell back on the ground, gasping for breath. Warm hands cupped your cheeks, turning your face up towards the witch kneeling above you. You blinked your eyes open, your body feeling like it had been forced through a triathlon then asked to climb Mount Everest followed by a deep sea dive. 

“How are you feeling?” Zelda asked.

“Rough.”

She helped you sit up. She pushed your hair behind your ear, checking your eyes for something. You gave her a strained smile. The worry drained from her face leaving a simmering anger.

“Why would you do that?” Her voice was hard. 

“I couldn’t let it get you,” you replied, “not you.” 

That seemed to knock the wind out of her sails. She looked at you. You looked back. 

“What are you trying to say?” she asked.

You pushed yourself forward, kissing her. You’d almost died a few minutes ago and you’d been saved by the woman who had enchanted you for so long. There was never a better time to take the plunge. 

It surprised you when she kissed you back, her hands cupping you’re cheeks. You wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her towards you. She unbalanced, falling forward, pushing you back down. You let out a breathless laugh.

“Don’t do that again,” she told you.

“Okay.”

She kissed you again.


	33. Found Out (Zelda/Reader)

You gasped into the hot mouth as you were pushed against the cool wood of the desk. You made a high keening noise as hands roughly shoved under your skirt, fingernails scraping along your sensitive skin. You plunged your fingers into ginger locks, tugging on them until you heard a growl against your lips. She nipped at your lower lip, pulling a moan from you. You pushed yourself up to sit on the strong desk.

You wrapped your legs around her waist, pulling her another step closer. She hummed into your mouth as her fingers began to creep towards your heat. You shifted, wanting her closer. Her fingers slipped from your skin, landing on either side of you on the desk, caging you in. You whined, gripping her hair tighter.

Her lips ran along your jaw, teeth nipping at your skin until she found your pulse point. You tipped your head back as her tongue ran over the mark she was making on your skin. Her fingers skimmed over your core, earning a sharp hiss from you. You heard her chuckle into your skin.

“Do you want this?” she asked.

“Please Zelds,” you moaned.

“Please what?” Her finger began to circle over your clit, feather light and barley there.

“Fuck me,” you breathed, tightening your fingers in her hair, “I need you.”

“Beg.”

“Please, Zelds, I need you,” you moaned, “please fuck me. Please.” 

“You can do better than that.”

She pressed her finger against your clit, a strangled cry falling from your lips. Her teeth sunk into the flesh of your shoulder as you pleaded with her for more. She began to circle your clit with her finger, removing the pressure. You practically sobbed.

She rested her fingers at your entrance as she licked up the column of your throat. You whimpered, shifting your hips closer to her. She tutted before kissing you again, all tongue and teeth, making you vibrate with want.

She slammed her fingers into you, the pain mixing with the pleasure into a sweet cacophony running through your veins. You let out a strangled groan, your hands facing to her shoulders. You clutched at her as she set a ruthless pace.

You weren’t being quiet or careful, so consumed with the pleasure pounding through you. Your head was thrown back, your chest heaving as she rolled one of your nipples between thumb and forefinger, her hand pushed up under your shirt. 

“Sister Spellman, I was wondering-“ The door pushed open.

You shrieked, pushing Zelda away from you. She growled, looking over your shoulder. Prudence was standing in the doorway, smirking at the two of you. You flushed bright red, closing your legs. Zelda put her hand on your knee stilling you.

“Can I help you, Prudence?” she asked.

“I was wondering if you knew where Sabrina is? She hasn’t been seen all day.”

Zelda rolled her eyes. 

“She is with her mortal friends,” she said, “if that is all I would ask you to leave.”

“Of course Sister Spellman.”

She sent you a wink before closing the door on you. You looked at Zelda, still feeling embarrassment settling over you. Zelda pursed her lips. 

“That was rather a mood killer,” she said.

“Yes,” you agreed.

“Shall we try to bring it back?”

She didn’t wait for an answer, kissing you again. The embarrassment was already beginning to melt away.


	34. Dinner (Zelda/Reader/Marie)

You knocked on the front door, pushing your fingers through your hair. You had no idea why Hilda was so insistent on inviting you to dinner. All you had to do was get through a few hours without jumping Zelda and you’d be fine. You couldn’t do anything to make an idiot of yourself in front of her. You could only thank the gods that Marie would not also be there.

The door was pulled open by one Zelda Spellman, a surprised look on her face. Your heart stopped and your cheeks flushed. You bit down on your lower lip, watching as her eyes darkened.

“Hilda invited me for dinner,” you said.

“Then you and I have something in common.”

You turned around, finding Marie at your shoulder. You let out a surprised squeak. Being so close to her made you feel hot and bothered, and you found it hard to concentrate on anything the two women were saying. You kept looking from one beautiful face to the other.

“I suppose you should both come inside.”

Marie placed her hand on the small of your back, leading you into the house. Zelda closed the door behind the two of you, leading you into the kitchen. You didn’t want to say you were looking for an out, but the thought of spending an excruciating night with the two women of your dreams was making you want to turn tail and run. 

The kitchen was empty, the table bare. There was no sign Hilda had ever been in there, nor had any plans of returning. You sunk down onto one of the chairs, biting down on your lower lip. 

“Are you alright, ma cherie?”

You looked into the concerned eyes of Marie. Your heart missed a beat as your eyes met hers. She grasped your chin, keeping you from looking away. Her other hand landed on your shoulder, her thumb running along your your collar bone. You shifted in your seat.

“I’m fine,” you replied, trying to pull out of her grip.

“Don’t embarrass the poor girl,” Zelda said, perching on a chair, “if she wants to do something, she shall.”

“I’m not so sure,” Marie said.

Her thumb was still stroking along your skin but she released your chin. You were growing hot, wondering if you’d be able to excuse yourself without being rude. 

Marie lent closer, into your personal space, her breath fanning over your face. You froze, not sure what you should do. She gently cupped your cheek.

“What do you want to do, ma cherie?”

You squeaked. She chuckled, drawing back from you.

“You’re going to have to make the decision yourself,” she said.

You surged forward, pressing your lips to hers. Her hand pressed to the small of your back, pulling you against hers. You curled your hand around the back of her neck. A gruff cough interrupted the two of you.

“If the two of you are quite finished,” Zelda said.

“Don’t be jealous, ma cherie,” Marie said, looking over your shoulder at her, “there is room for you.”

“Don’t be absurd.”

You turned around, reaching a hand out towards Zelda. You pulled her up from the table, tugging her a step towards you. You threaded your fingers through her hair. 

“Are you saying you haven’t thought about this?” you asked.

“Of course I have,” she replied. 

“Then stop complaining.”

She crashed your lips against hers, kissing her sloppily. She drew back, her lipstick smudged, only to kiss Marie over your shoulder. You attached your lips to the side of her neck, sucking on her pulse point. Fingers dug into the flesh of your hip and you couldn’t tell who they belonged to. 

You were pushed back against the table, the edge digging into your ass. You hauled yourself to sit on it as a hand crept up your shirt. Your head fell back as one of them began to palm your breast, teeth scraping along your exposed collar bone. You tightened your hand in Zelda’s hair, earning a hiss.

You were pulled into a soft kiss, slow and sensual as the teeth sunk into the skin of your neck hard enough to leave a mark to be found later. Maries fingers were much softer as they kneaded at the flesh of your breast, her thumb swiping over your nipple until it was a hardened peak. You whined into the hot mouth on yours. 

You pulled Zelda’s head back, breaking away from Marie to kiss her. You arched your back into Marie’s touch as you slid your hand down Zelda’s body to grasp her ass. You pulled her forward, pressing your leg between her’s. She moaned, her fingernails scraping along your cheek as she held your face in place. 

She drew back and you watched through hooded eyes as Marie and Zelda locked lips. You pressed your leg up against Zelda’s heat, enjoying the way she groaned into Marie’s mouth. Marie pinched at your nipple earning a high whine from you. 

Zelda ground against your thigh as she reached out to Marie to press her against her body. You attached your lips to the long column of of Marie’s neck, wrapping your arm around her waist. 

“You owe me 20 bucks.”

“Can you guys not do that on the kitchen table?” 

Zelda pulled away from Marie, turning to look over her shoulder. The three other Spellmans were standing in the doorway. You flushed, buried your face in Marie’s shoulder. Zelda growled, moving off your leg, leaving you feeling cold.

“If you’re quite finished,” Zelda said.

You giggled. You could feel her shooting a glare at you. You giggled again, feeling Marie begin to laugh too. 

“Come on.”

A hand grasped your wrist, tugging you off the table. You grabbed Marie, being dragged from the kitchen.

“Is that a no to dinner?” Hilda called after you.

You giggled again.


	35. Harley Quinn (Dorcas/Reader)

The screech of tires in Gotham City were not an uncommon noise and you had grown accustomed to it. However, when it happened just up the street you couldn’t help but perk up with attention, hoping to see some kind of interesting acton. It had been a quiet couple of days and you were itching for something to break up the hum drum atmosphere that had settled over you. 

You skipped over, expecting to find a drive by attack occurring. You pushed through the crowd, making your way to the front. A group of young adults were standing, cowering before a group of large thugs. A young blonde had her hands held out towards them, muttering under her breath as the men advanced on them. You let your eyes glance over them, taking in the tall brunette, the shorter read head, the young man, the woman with his hand on her shoulder, and the young blonde in the front of the group. 

She looked frustrated, turning around to hiss something at her group of friends. The men shared a grin, advancing another step. The willow brunette stepped forward, raising her own hands, speaking fast in latin. You cocked your head, watching as nothing continued to happen. The three men approaching the young people closed in.

“Hello boys,” you said, stepping out of the crowd. 

You grinned as they turned to look at you, giving them a small wave. They seemed to flinch back just slightly. 

“Whatcha doin’?” you asked.

“None of your business, Quinn,” one of them growled.

“Looks like fun.” You sent a wink at the red head, “can I join in?”

Before they could answer you ran forward, slamming your fist into the first man’s stomach. He let out a huff, doubling over. You slammed your elbow into the back of his head, watching him fall to the sidewalk at your feet. You jumped over his body, looking between the two others. 

One had the red head in his hands, a gun pressed to her temple. The other was grappling with the tallest of the girls. You smiled as she got in a good punch. A whimper turned your attention back to the other girl being held at gunpoint. 

“I’m gonna need you to let her go,” you said, “she’s rather cute.”

“Step back, Quinn,” the man said.

“I don’t think so,” you said.

You flipped forward, slamming your foot into the poor man’s nose. He stumbled back a step, blood now beginning to pour down his face. You popped back up, sending your elbow backwards, right into the solar plexus of the man you’d already sent to the ground. He stumbled back a few steps.

You ducked under his fist, pushing back against his shoulders. Once he got his feet back under him you slammed your head forward, right into his. Despite the stars blooming behind your eyelids you laughed, throwing your head back. He fell onto his ass. You turned back to the other man.

You swung your leg up, kicking his elbow. The gun pointed up, a shot firing off into the sky. You watched as the girl in his arms flinched. She was so adorable. 

You rushed forward, grabbing his wrist and pulling his arm backwards , tugging until he dropped the gun. You bent down picking it up, twirling it on your finger. 

“Lost something?”

You slammed the butt of the gun into his temple, watching his eyes roll backwards and fall to the ground. You caught the red head in your arms before the weight of the big man could drag her down. 

“Do ya come here often?” you asked her.

You let her go, slamming the heat of your foot into the other man’s face. He groaned but didn’t get up again. You flipped forward towards the last man, slamming both feet into the small of the other man’s back. He stumbled forward, giving you time to get your feet back under you. As he turned you slammed your fist into his jaw, watching as one of his teeth flew from his mouth. 

He doubled over, a double fist slamming into the back of his head, sending him down for the count. You kicked him a couple of times in the ribs for good measure. You looked up, blowing your hair out of your face. You grinned at the group of young people.

“Wasn’t that fun?” you said, “just like old times.”

They all took a step back from you. You looked from each one.

“Thank you for the help,” the tallest of the women said, stepping over the prone body of the man she’d just sent down. 

“No problem,” you said, “I wouldn’t have done it if you weren’t with such a cutie.”

You looked over at the red head who hadn’t taken her eyes from you. You winked. She flushed such a pretty colour. 

“Call me sometime, doll,” you said before skipping off again.

That was a nice way to waste fifteen minutes of your day. A pretty girl and a fight. What more could you ask for?


	36. Supergirl (Dorcas/Reader)

You walked down the street, making sure no criminals were stalking the streets of Greendale. Most days were quiet in this town, nothing really happening. It was easy living. 

The screech of tires was loud in your ears. You whipped your head around, watching the car careen down the street. It was heading straight towards a group of young women at the end of the road. You watched as most of them dived away. The only one left was a red head, a deer in the headlights.

You pushed up, racing the car to the young woman. You scooped her up from the sidewalk, flying up into the air. The car crashed into the side of the building the front crumpling in. A soft whimper came from the girl in your arms. 

“Are you okay?” you asked, “are you hurt?”

“No.” Her voice was small. You weren’t sure which of the questions she was answering but it didn’t alleviate your worry. 

You looked down at her, finding her wide eyes staring at you. Her arms tightened around your neck and a flush climbed up her cheeks. You tried to give her a comforting smile but she only let out a small squeak.

“Shall I put you down?” you asked.

“No.” 

Her arms tightened around your neck, bringing her closer to you. You readjusted your hold on her, swooping down towards her friends. You set her down on her feet, giving her a soft smile as you landed on the sidewalk. 

“Are you going to be okay now?” you asked.

“No.”

“Is there something I can help with?”

“I think you could help if you went home with her,” the tallest of her friends said, “Prudence Night. If you’re not going home with her, perhaps you’d like to join me.”

You giggled, feeling yourself flush. You weren’t used to people hitting on you quite so obviously. You pushed your hair behind your ear, giving her a strained smile.

“Thank you but I think I’ll have to decline that offer,” you said, “unless you’re in danger.”

“I think Dorcas would like to be in danger with you,” Prudence said.

Dorcas, the red head, hit Prudence in the arm, her face bright red. You gave her a smile, motioning for her to follow you away from the others. You took her to the street corner, pushing your hair behind your ear again. She looked at you with big eyes.

“I’d love to see you again,” you said, “if that’s something you’d like.”

She lent forward, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. You bit on your lower lip, watching her give you one of those self satisfied smirks you hoped to become familiar with.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night.”


	37. Crying in the Woods (The Weird Sisters/Reader)

There was comfort to be found in the silence of the woods. When it was empty, only the animals and the trees to keep you company you could let the mask fall away to reveal what was going on underneath. In the solitude of the forest it was just you and the deep ache in your heart. 

Sitting on your favourite tree stump you could feel the tears gathering in your eyes. You had spent so long with a smile plastered n your face, saying nice words to everyone that crossed your path. You were bone tired, the haze nothingness beginning to take over once again. You needed this moment away, if only to be able to collect yourself again.

The tears dripped down your chin, falling onto your legs. You buried your face in your hands, hunching over as if that would be able to stop the ache, as if you could protect yourself against the pain rolling through you. You let out a strangled sob, unable to stop it from falling from your lips. 

“What do we have here?”

You looked up, trying to brush the tears from your cheeks. You scrubbed your eyes, trying to get them to go away but more just replaced those you removed. Three familiar figures appeared out of the mist, their steps in sync as they walked towards you. You sniffed.

“What’s wrong, kitten?” Prudence asked. 

The Weird Sisters had taken you under your wing when you’d arrived at the Academy, using their influence to keep people from messing with you. In their words, you were an easy target, with your smiles and kind words. You needed someone to protect you. They had decided to fill that role for reasons you had never understood. 

You shook your head, not having an answer. Prudence perched on the stump beside you, putting her arm around your shoulder. You lent on her shoulder as the tears kept coming. Dorcas sat on the other side of you, running her hand soothingly up and down your back. Agatha crouched in front, taking your hands in hers, her thumb rubbing comforting circles along the skin of the back of your hand. 

“It’s okay,” Dorcas said.

“We’ll hurt whoever caused this,” Agatha said.

You only cried harder. There was no reason for you to be feeling this way. No one had hurt you, no one was mean, you knew you were loved. There was no one for them to hurt. There was no one to blame.

“We’ve got you, kitten,” Prudence whispered into your hair, “we’ll never let anything happen to you.”

You pressed your face into her shoulder, only able to let the tears continue to fall.


	38. Lupercalia (Dorcas/Reader)

You pressed your back against a tree, your breath loud in your ears. You were waiting to be found by Dorcas, having been paired up with her for the Lupercalia celebrations. You could hear the couples in the woods around you.

You’d prayed to the Dark Lord to be paired up with Dorcas this year. You’d wanted her for so long and year after year you’d seen her paired up with everyone else. All you wanted was your chance. 

You took off running again, your cloak streaming behind you. You ducked under a tree branch, avoiding a couple rolling on the ground. You rounded a bush, a heavy weight jumping on your back. You fell to leaf strewn ground.

You rolled over, ready to fight whoever was attacking you. Long red hair streamed down around your head, a pair of grey eyes staring down at you. Dorcas growled, baring her teeth at you. You flushed but settled your hands on her hips. 

“Caught you,” she whispered. 

Her kiss was harsh, her tongue invading your mouth. You pressed yourself more fully against her, straining up to meet her. You buried your hands in her hair, pressing your body against hers. She moaned into your mouth, her hands wandering over your body. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this,” she said, drawing back to look down at you.

“I really don’t,” you agreed, running your hands up her leg and under her skirt.

“I have watched year after year as you’ve paired off with other people and all I can think of is what would happen if it was me,” she said, one of her hands stroking down your neck.

She palmed at your breast, your back arching up into her touch. She kissed you again, moaning into your mouth as your fingers ran up her legs. You sat up, shifting her onto one of your legs. She swiped her thumb over your nipple. You groaned into her mouth.

You pressed your leg up against her hot core. You growled when you realised she’d left her panties behind, her slick wetness making contact with your skin. She hissed, grinding down on your leg. 

You nipped at her lower lip, your fingers digging into her flesh as you pulled her hips down. She gasped, throwing her head back. You attached your lips to the long column of her neck. She made a high keening noise as she ground against your leg, your thigh growing slick with her juices. You nipped at her pulse point, enjoying the way it made her hips buck faster. 

She pinched at your nipples. You sunk your teeth into her flesh, hoping you’d leave a bruise on her alabaster skin. You dug your fingers into her ass, helping her ride your thigh as the heat grew in your stomach. 

She cried out, her body stilling above you, her muscles tensing. You grinned against her skin. She cupped your face, her eyes opening with a smile. She kissed you, soft and sweet.

“Your turn.”

Your head fell back as her fingers delved under your skirt.


	39. Lupercalia (Zelda/Reader)

You’d decided to sit out the Lupercalia celebrations this year. There was no point when the one person you wanted wasn’t getting involved. Zelda Spellman, the most attractive person you’d ever laid eyes on, was sitting across the room from you, a book in one hand, a cigarette in the other. You were spending more time watching her than reading the newspaper spread out over your lap.

She looked up, catching your eye. You gave her a tight smile, dropping your eyes back to your paper, pretending to read it. You had no idea what any of it said.

“You were not interested in partaking in Lupercalia?” Zelda asked, breaking the silence.

“No. I figured I’d leave it to the younger members of the coven,” you said with a shrug.

“Why should the young ones get all the fun?”

Your mouth fell open as you looked up at the older woman. She’d place her book down and was leaning forward towards you. 

“What?” you squeaked. 

“The children are not the only ones able to enjoy the celebrations,” she said.

She uncrossed her legs, your mouth growing dry. She stubbed out her cigarette, standing from her seat. You watched her saunter towards you, her hips swaying with each step. You gulped.

She put her hands on each arm of your chair, leaning down until her breath ghosted over your skin. Her eyes darkened as you bit down on your lower lip. Your heart was loud in your ears. 

“Hilda is with her paramour and Sabrina and Ambrose are at the Lupercalia celebrations,” she said, “there is no one to interrupt should we choose to have our own fun.”

You surged up, kissing her hard. You pulled her down to straddle your lap, the paper crumpling under her body. Her hands threaded through your hair, holding you in place as she nipped at your bottom lip. You moaned into her mouth, running your hands down her body to squeeze her ass.

Her fingers tightened in your hair, pulling at it as the heat from her body began to consume you. You arched into her, pressing your body against hers. She chuckled against your lips, drawing back. You whined.

She cupped your cheek, kissing you slower, the edge having disappeared. Her hand slipped down your body, her thumb running over your nipple through the layers of material on your body. You gasped, arching into her touch. She pressed you back into the seat with a hand to the centre of your chest. She brushed her hair out of her face, her eyes hooded as she considered you. 

She tugged on the bottom of your shirt, pulling it off your body. She threw it aside, leaning forward to attach her lips to your neck. Your head fell back, a groan falling from your lips. She reached behind you, unhooking your bra, flinging it away. She pinched at your nipple, rolling it between thumb and forefinger. Your fingers tightened on her. 

Her teeth sunk in to your neck, hard enough to be more pain than pleasure. You yelped, jerking away from her. Her hand on your breast melted you again with little more than a tweak to the nipple. She slid fro your lap, kneeling in front of you. 

Her hands were situated on your knees. She looked up at you from under her lashes, her lipstick smeared and her eyes dark. She pulled your knees apart, licking her lips. Your fingers tangled in her hair as her hands pushed up your skirt and hooked in your underwear. She pulled them down your legs, dropping them to the floor. 

She lent forward, making eye contact as her tongue swept through your folds. You let out a strangled groan, your head falling back and your fingers tightening in her hair. She shifted further forward, burying her head between your legs. 

The noises you were making filled the silence house. Zelda hummed into your core, the vibrations causing you to whine. Her fingers dug into your thighs as she kept your legs from clamping around her head. You were trembling, every nerve ending on fire. 

You ground yourself against her face, her tongue circling your clit. You bucked against her, her chuckles travelling through you. You bit down on your lip, trying to stifle the noises you were making. You didn’t need to deal with the embarrassment of her knowing how desperate you were for her. You tasted blood as she began to suck on your bundle of nerves.

Her hand disappeared under your skirt, a finger slamming into you. You cried out, arching off the seat. She held you in place, not letting up as she added another finger. You writhed in your seat, beyond caring what she heard from you or not. You were thought you might have started begging but you couldn’t be sure, so consumed with the feelings she was giving you.

Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your body jerked against her as you were brought to new heights you hadn’t experienced before. You gasped for breath as you began to come down.

She drew away from you, wiping her chin on the back of her hand. You ran your fingers through her hair, feeling sated and satisfied. She climbed into your lap again, your chin in her hand. She kissed you, letting you taste yourself on her tongue.

“Shall we take this somewhere more comfortable?” you asked.

She climbed off you, holding her hand out to you. She pulled you to your feet, helping you on your weak knees. You kissed her again, already addicted to her.


	40. Apology (Zelda/Reader)

“If you’re not going to act immature you can sit with the children,” Zelda snapped.

Your mouth fell open, the indignation rising in you. All you’d done was suggest that maybe you push some tables together to let everyone sit together and apparently that was enough to earn the ire of your girlfriend. You knew sometimes she had a short temper but it had yet to be directed towards you. 

The only time she’d been this rude was towards her sister. Hilda took it on the chin. You were not Hilda.

“Fine.”

You turned around and stormed out the house. If she didn’t want you around then you’d remove yourself from the situation. You weren’t going to beg for her time. You were worth more than that.

You walked into town, ignoring the stares of the other people. You were used to the stares, being one of the few townspeople who had gotten in with the Spellmans. It didn’t help that you were one fo the few out people in the town. 

You pushed into Doctor Cerberus’s, expecting to find Hilda there with her fiancé. You could understand why she was spending less time at the house these days with Zelda treating her the way she did. You sat in one of the booths, happy to be mostly alone in the cafe.

A cup of tea was placed in front of you by a smiling Hilda. She left you there to stew over your argument with Zelda. You wrapped your hands around the mug, breathing in the steam. Hilda always seemed to know what you needed. 

The bell above the door jingled. You didn’t bother turning around to look at who was entering, assuming it was one of the teenagers from the school looking to join their friends in the booth in the corner. You took a sip from your mug, closing your eyes to enjoy the taste on your tongue. 

“You came running to my sister?”

You snapped your eyes open. Zelda was sitting across from you, the rage still burning behind her eyes. You drew your mug closer to yourself.

“I didn’t go running anywhere,” you replied.

“You stormed out of my house in a huff,” she said, “you acted no better than Sabrina in one of her teenage tantrums.”

“I decided to go sit with the children,” you snapped.

She pursed her lips but didn’t bother to give you response. You took another drink from your mug, enjoying the tea Hilda had given you. 

“I don’t appreciate your reaction,” Zelda said.

“And I don’t appreciate being talked to in that way,” you said, “I deserve more respect from you than you showed me tonight.”

“I showed you respect,” she said.

“Where?” you asked, “which part was respectful?”

She opened her mouth then paused. For the first time you might have actually won one over on Zelda. You were so used to listening to her and believing in her wisdom. She had so much more experience and an aura of command that let you trust her more. Not this time. 

“I’m sorry.”

You could feel your mouth falling open in shock. You’d never once heard Zelda apologise to anyone so to have it directed your way was beyond surprising. You softened, giving her a small smile.

“Apology accepted,” you said, “but I might not forgive you so easily next time.”

“Can we return home now?” she asked, “there’s only so much ham house horror I can deal with.”

“Can I finish my tea?” you asked.

She reached over, taking the mug from your hands. She sipped from it, scrunching up her nose. She downed the rest of it, leaving you very disgruntled.

“You’re on very thin ice,” you said, standing up.

She slung her arm around your waist, drawing you into her body. The kiss was warm and tasted of the herbal tea. It was soft and sweet, and reminded you how in love you were with her.

“Okay, let’s go home.”


	41. Cuddling (Zelda/Reader/Marie)

You were resting in the bed, your head resting on Marie’s chest. Her arms were wrapped around your waist, one of your hands tracing meaningless shapes onto her stomach. You had your eyes closed, listening to the steady rhythm of Marie’s heart beating against her rib cage. 

She was whispering a story into your hair, her voice quiet in the late night air. Her voice was soothing as you tangled your legs with hers. She ran a hand up your spine, her fingers trailing along your skin. You let out a contented sigh, snuggling closer to her.

“What in the name of Hecarte are you two doing?”

You looked over your shoulder, finding Zelda in the doorway. Her arms were crossed and she did not look pleased in the slightest.

“Cuddling,” you replied.

“Come join us, ma cherie,” Marie said.

You rolled over, holding your arm out towards her. She walked towards the edge of the bed, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. You took her hand, trying to tug her onto the bed.

“What is the point of cuddling?” she asked.

“It’s comforting,” you said, “it’s nice.”

“It’s a pleasurable experience,” Marie said.

She relented, letting you pull her onto the bed. You wrapped an arm around her shoulders after letting go of her hand, pulling her against your body. You ran your nose along her jaw, smiling to yourself. Marie reached over your body, lacing her fingers through Zelda’s, resting their joined hands on your stomach. 

Zelda settled her head against your shoulder, still not relaxing. Marie pressed a kiss to your temple, keeping her arm tight around your waist. You ran your fingers through Zelda’s hair, working through the knots that had gathered throughout the day. You gently massaged her scalp. 

“Is this meant to have a purpose?” Zelda asked, slightly muffled against your shoulder.

“It is pleasurable,” Marie said, “relaxing.”

“There’s no purpose beyond enjoying it,” you replied.

Slowly her muscles began to relax as your fingers continued to run through her hair. You pressed a kiss to the top of her head, rubbing your thumb in soothing circles over her shoulder. Marie had gone back to telling her story, her voice soft. You loved listening to her voice, enjoying the way it evoked the feeling of velvet on skin. 

Your eyes were falling closed, enjoying the warmth on both side of you from both women you loved. Zelda slipped her arm around your waist, pressed against Marie’s. You snuggled down in the bed, pulling both women closer. 

“Do you understand now, ma cherie?” Marie asked.

“Maybe,” Zelda replied, “but more time learning couldn’t hurt.”

Both arms tightened around you. You sighed in contentment. This was the life.


	42. Reunion (Zelda/Reader)

You hadn’t thought you’d run into your ex at this event. You’d been invited to the charity gala as one of the more affluent people in town, and you had assumed that you’d be surrounded by other rich people. You didn’t expect Zelda would be standing there looking as good as the day you left.

You froze in your tracks, unable to tear your eyes from her. She turned her head, smiling at one of the men in the group she was talking to. Her hair was shining in the warm light of the ballroom, her skin glowing. The feelings washed over you again.

You had loved her so completely, been devoted to her, would have given anything to be with her forever. And then you’d seen her with Father Blackwood. You hadn’t stuck around long enough to listen to her pathetic excuses. 

You took a shuddering breath. You had two options; either walk in with your head held high as if nothing had happened, or scuttle back where you’d come from in shame. There was no competition. 

You could tell the moment she realised your presence. Her gaze was heavy on you, burning you up. You ignored it, bestowing a smile to one of the women you were used to seeing those events.

“Miriam, how lovely to see you,” you said, kissing her on the cheek.

“(Y/N), it’s wonderful to see you,” she said, giving you an even bigger smile. 

“Isn’t it beautiful in here?” you asked, looking around the room.

“Well, it is now.”

You gave her a tight smile. She had been saying those kind of things to you for a long time now, and despite your continued lack of interest, it didn’t look like it would be ending anytime soon. Even if her husband was in close proximity.

“So sorry Miriam,” a familiar voice said at your shoulder, a warm hand settling on the small of your back, “but I have to steal this beautiful creature for a few moments.”

Without asking you, you were led away from Miriam by the firm hand on your lower back. You let her, assuming it would be better to get this over and done with quickly, and then let you go back to the evening. 

You turned, looking up at Zelda, gritting your teeth. She was glowering at you, her eyes hard and her jaw tight. You sighed, stepping away from her. She followed you, keeping close.

“Can I help you?” you asked.

“Is there a reason you’re flirting so outrageously with Miriam of all people?” she asked.

“I was being nice,” you said, “not that it’s any of your business.”

“Of course it’s my business,” she snapped.

“I don’t see how.”

She narrowed her eyes, stepping right up to you. You flinched back until her hands landed on your hips. You gritted your teeth.

“Why did you leave?” she asked, “what gave you the right?”

“I’m not going to stick around when you’re sleeping with someone behind my back,” you snapped.

“What in hell’s name are you talking about?” she demanded.

“I saw you with Blackwood,” you said, “I’m not an idiot. It was obvious.”

Her face fell. You pulled out of her hold, knowing she had no way of explaining this away. The image of the two of them kissing was burned into your brain, each time making your heart break all over again. Just thinking about it made your heart ache. 

“I asked him not to,” she said.

“Not to what?” you snapped, “kiss you?”

“Yes,” she said.

“What?” Now you were the one who didn’t understand.

“I pushed him away and told him to never do it again,” she said, “that was the only time he ever kissed me.”

You blinked, every argument flying from your head. You bit down on your lower lip, averting your gaze. 

“I told him I was already spoken for, and uninterested in his advances,” she said, lifting your chin until you were looking at her, “so I ask again, what were you doing with Miriam?”

Her lips were harsh when she kissed you, biting down on your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. You clutched at her, your fingers digging into her shoulders to keep you upright. She pulled your body against yours, pressing her curves to yours. 

“Let’s go home,” Zelda said, “we have some making up to do.”


	43. Soft Pleasure (Dorcas/Reader)

You were sitting in the dorm of the Academy, ignoring the noises of the excited students outside. You were avoiding Lupercalia, knowing that it was unlikely that you would have been paired with the one person you wanted. You knew she wanted someone else this year.

The door creaked open, drawing your attention away from your thoughts. Dorcas looked surprise to find you there. You gave her a tight smile.

“I thought you’d be out there,” you said, gesturing to the tightly closed window, “isn’t it your year to get Nick?”

“I’m not that interested in Nick,” she said, “there’s someone else I’d rather have.”

“Oh, well I’m sure whoever it is will be interested,” you said.

“I hope so.”

Her lips were soft against yours. You hadn’t noticed her draw closer to you as the conversation had gone on. Her hands settled on your waist, holding you close. You were slow to respond, shocked at the turn of events. You threaded your fingers through her hair, keeping her close.

She pushed you back until your legs hit the bed. You sat, pulling her with you. She straddled your lap her hands running up your body to cup your face. You grabbed her ass, squeezing. 

“I think they might be interested,” you said.

She gave playful growl, her lips trailing down your throat. You whined, falling backwards. She swept a hand down, palming at your breast as you arched your back into her touch. 

You rolled her over, hovering above her. She blinked up at you, her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed. You swooped down, kissing her as thoroughly as you could. 

“Let me show you how interested they are,” you whispered.

You slipped your hand under her skirt, trailing your fingertips up the soft skin of her thigh. Her legs fell open as you ducked down, your mouth teaching to her nipple through her dress. She made a beautiful noise, arching into your mouth. You skimmed your fingers higher, enjoying the way she made a high keening noise. 

Her hips bucked up as you ghosted over her core. You smiled against her breast, grazing your teeth over the hardening nub. Her fingers tangled in your hair, keeping in place as your fingers pressed more insistently against her.

You hooked your fingers in her panties, drawing them down her legs. She moaned. You dove between her legs, dragging your tongue up her slit. You slipped her legs over your shoulders. 

From there all you focused on was causing as many of those beautiful noises to fall from her lips.


	44. Comforting (Lilith/Reader)

The slamming of the door woke you from a rather pleasurable dream you were having. You sat up, your book falling to the floor with a thump. You put your hand on the back of the sofa, looking for the source of the sound. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes.

“Lilith?” you called.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the living room but you had been waiting up for Lilith to get home from work. She had been staying out later and later with every passing night, coming home a mixture of frustrated and angry. You tried to comfort her as best you could but she never wanted to talk about it with you.

“Is that you?” you asked.

You ran your fingers through your hair, hoping you didn’t look too terrible. You stood, rubbing at your eyes again. You heard a clatter in the kitchen, the tap turning on then off again.

“If you’re a thirsty burglar knock three times,” you called.

Lilith was standing at the sink, her arms crossed. She was looking out of the window at the dark world. The moon was new, nothing left to light up the backyard under Lilith’s gaze. You sighed.

“Tough day?” you asked.

“I don’t understand why that teenage busybody insists on being pigheaded about the job. Surely she must have known what being Queen of Hell would entail,” she said, “it was hardly going to be rainbows and butterflies.”

“Sabrina has a very idealistic view of the world,” you said.

“She got locked in a freezer after refusing to take the soul of a man who killed children,” she said, “I can’t please her.”

You wrapped your arms around her waist, pressing your front to her back. You rested your chin on her shoulder. She lent back against you, almost absentmindedly, her hands coming to rest on yours. You pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.

“She’s young and believes the world can be made better with some compassion. She hasn’t lived long enough to know that the world doesn’t care about her moral ideals.”

“Are you on her side in this?” she demanded, pulling out of your arms, turning to face you. 

“Of course not. She took on a job. She can’t complain about what she has to do now,” you said, “it’s on her for not thinking about the consequences.”

“She never does.”

You placed your hands on her hips, pushing her back into the counter. She narrowed her eyes at you, sending electricity straight to your core. You lent forward.

“This is going to end in flames,” she said.

“I would hope so,” you said, “if you’re going to be Queen of Hell there’s going to be flames.”

She grasped your chin, pulling you in for an all consuming kiss. Maybe coming home late wasn’t always such a bad thing.


	45. First Time (Dorcas/Reader)

You ran your fingers up the long column of Dorcas’s neck, watching her shiver. She turned her head, looking at you over her shoulder. You knelt on the bed, your lips following in your finger’s wake. She let out a breathy moan, her head tipping back. 

“Are you sure?” you asked.

She nodded, turning around on the bed to kneel in front of you. You cupped her cheek, pulling her into a soft kiss. Her fingers tangled in your hair, holding you close to her. You lay down, pulling her body on top of yours. Her weight settled above you, er body moulding to yours.

You rolled the two of you over, hovering above her. You stroked her hair out of her face, your fingers tracing down her cheek. You pressed your lips to the underside of her jaw, she squeaked, her fingers tightening in your hair.

You skimmed your hand down her body. She whined, arching into your featherlight touch. You palmed her breast, growling softly into her skin. She shivered. 

“Please,” she whined.

You trailed your lips down to her neckline. You pushed her nightdress up, slipping your hand onto her bare breast. She bit down on her lip, stifling any of the noises she might make. You ran your thumb over her nipple, feeling it pebble under your touch. 

With your other hand you tugged the dress up further. She lifted her arms, letting you pull it from her body. You drew back, your eyes raking over her. Her skin glowed in the soft light, her hair fanned out beneath her. You ran your finger down her body, leaving it pressed against her stomach. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you said.

She flushed, but soon forgot about it when you kissed her again. You trailed your lips down her body, worshiping every inch of it as best you could. She writhed under your touch, her fingers pulling on your hair. Your hand slipped down, a finger running through her folds. Her hips bucked up into your touch, an accompanying whine enough to make you smile against her skin.

You dipped your head, pressing a soft kiss to her inner thigh. You hefted her legs onto your shoulder. You swiped your tongue through her folds, enjoying the way her legs clamped around your head. You pressed your tongue flat against her clit, looking up at her. Her eyes were squeezed closed, her head thrown back. 

You sucked on her clit, watching her back arch up and a cry fall from her lips. Your scalp almost hurt from how tightly she was pulling on your hair. You pressed a single finger to entrance, letting up on her clit. She whined. 

She gasped, your finger fully cheated within her. You stroked her internal walls, feeling them flutter. You sucked on her bundle of nerves again, feeling her legs shake. You slipped another finger into her, curling them. She moaned, pressing her face into the mattress. 

You pulled her closer, working hard to get her to reach the height of pleasure. From the sounds she was making, you knew she was close. You gave a long hard suck on her clit, sending her falling over the edge. She made an almost inhuman sound, her body stilling, her fingers tight in your hair.

You sat, wiping your chin on the back of your hand. She looked up at you from under hooded lids. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips swollen. She was gasping for breath, her chest heaving. You grinned, swooping in to kiss her again.


	46. A Sleepless Night (The Weird Sisters/Reader) Part 2

You had had enough. The Weird Sisters were pushing their luck with you and finally you had snapped. You stormed through the Academy, steam practically pouring out of your ears. 

You slammed the door to the dormitory open, finding the Weird Sisters huddled together on a bed. You clenched your teeth, grinding them together as you strode over to them. They looked up in unison. Prudence raised her eyebrow at you, while Agatha’s eyes raked over your quivering body. 

“Is there something we can help you with, sister (Y/N)?” Prudence asked.

“I have had enough,” you snapped.

“It’s about time,” Dorcas said.

Prudence shifted over on the bed, patting the mattress beside her. You crossed your arms over your chest, stomping your foot. They weren’t taking you seriously. 

“You can’t keep treating me this way,” you said, “you can’t keep doing this to me.”

“Doing what?” Agatha asked, her innocence sickly sweet.

“My grades have dropped, I can’t sleep at night, I’m a wreck,” you practically shouted.

“Oh no, that’s terrible,” Prudence said, “I hear exercise can help with that.”

“Vigorous exercise,” Dorcas said.

“Perhaps with three friends,” Agatha said.

“That,” you said gesturing at them, “stop that.”

Prudence rose from the bed, her long legs on display. You gulped, trying not to let your eyes wander over her but failing. She smirked when your eyes finally returned to hers. You clenched your jaw.

“It sounds as if you’re a little wound up,” she said, “I think you need a… release.”

You growled, surging forward. You grasped Prudence’s face in your hands, smashing your lips to hers. Her hands grasped your hips, pulling your body into hers. She swung you around, flinging you onto the bed. You bounced, falling into Agatha’s body.

She grabbed you, kissing you thoroughly. A hand slid along your body, palming at your breast. You whined into Agatha’s mouth, arching into Dorcas’s touch. Warm hands ran up your legs, pushing up past your skirt.

The door banged open again. 

“Oh for Satan’s sake.”

You sat up quick enough to see a head of blonde hair whip out the door. Sabrina would not be looking you in the eyes for weeks. Three pairs of warm hands slithered over your body, pulling you back into the Weird Sisters. 

Getting angry had really worked out in your favour.


	47. Strip Poker (Mambo Marie/Zelda/Reader/Lilith)

You were leaning with your head against Lilith’s legs. The carpet was scratchy under your your legs, your bare skin warming in front of the fire. Her fingers ran through your hair, massaging your scalp. You purred, shifting yourself closer.

“Here you are, ma cherie,” Marie said, passing a glass of wine to Lilith. She settled herself beside you on the carpet, tucking her legs underneath her. Zelda lent forward, gently grasping Marie’s chin between thumb and forefinger. 

There was nothing you could do beyond run your fingers up Lilith’s calf, the muscles jumping under your touch. You looked up at her. She smiled down at you, her hand caressing your cheek. Her lips were soft against yours when she finally kissed you, giving in to your needy whine. 

You rose to your feet, unconcerned at your own nudity. You stepped around them, picking up the decanter on the side table. You carried it back over, stopping when Zelda grasped your wrist. She pulled you down onto her lap, her fingers coming up to tangle in your hair. You sighed into her kiss, holding your body against hers.

When Lilith had suggested strip poker you knew it was going to be a bad idea. You had no poker face and had lost more money to your friends that way than through any other means. With Lilith and Zelda and Marie, the three witches with the best poker games you knew, you had no chance.

The three witches were mostly still dressed, having lost only a few article of clothing between them. You had nothing left to lose, stepping out of the game now you were bare to the world. The others were lazily continuing on, but you could tell none of them were focused much on the game anymore. The hour was late and you weren’t concentrating on cards any longer.

Warm fingers stroked along your thigh. You reached down, kissing Marie thoroughly, enjoying the way Zelda’s nails scraped against your scalp. You shuddered, pulling Marie up towards you. Her fingers dug into the flesh of your thigh as you bit down on her bottom lip. 

“Some focus, please,” Lilith said, interrupting your kiss. 

Marie settled back on the carpet, picking up her hand. You stayed in Zelda’s lap. She kept your cards angled away from your sight, which was probably a good idea given your previously mentioned lack of poker face. You settled against her. Her fingers lazily ran up and down your spine.

You began purring again, closing your eyes, listening to your witches continue to play their game of poker.


	48. A Cabin in the Woods (The Weird Sisters/Reader)

“I thought you said you could do this,” you whined, stamping your feet in the cold. 

“I might be better at it if I hadn’t been forced to drive all day,” Prudence snapped.

You sighed but mumbled under your breath about useless witches and their inability to make good on their promises. A door shimmered in the evening light. You wrapped your arms around your body, trying to keep yourself warm. Agatha gave you a smug look, opening the door into a small interior. 

You followed behind the Weird Sisters into the small house. Prudence slung herself down onto the couch, lounging luxuriously on the soft cushions. Agatha was looking at the sideboard, with all the crystal decanters waiting to be plundered. Dorcas motioned you forward, sitting you down on the soft plush carpet. 

Agatha handed you a glass of amber liquid. You sniffed it, then shrugged, taking a sip from it. Dorcas lowered herself beside you while Agatha sat in the only available armchair. You looked up at Prudence.

“I’m willing to admit this is pretty cool,” you said.

“Thank you,” she said tilting her head, “it would be nice to be given a reward.”

“What kind were you thinking?”

All you got in return was a smile as she topped up your glass. You settled back, leaning against the sofa by her feet. Dorcas was running her fingers over your leg in meaningless patterns. Agatha was staring at you with unwavering eyes.

The night continued on, more drinks being supplied, more heated looks from the three witches with you. The fire in grate wasn’t helping. As it heated up, more and more articles were removed until the three of of you were in nothing but your underwear. Touches were lingering and more and more innuendos were being passed back and forth. It was no secret this road trip with the Weird Sisters was for one reason, and one reason only. 

“Sister (Y/N),” Prudence said, stroking her fingers down the column of your neck, “are you impressed with this house?”

“Very much so,” you replied.

“How impressed?” she asked, taking the glass out of your hands.

“Enough to give you that reward,” you replied, kneeling up on your knees to be closer to her.

“How about us?” Dorcas asked, pressing her body to your back. You lent back into her warmth, turning your head to look at her.

“What kind of reward would you like?” you asked.

“You,” Agatha growled, her fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you around to look at her.

Dorcas’s hand squeezed one of your breasts, Agatha’s mouth attaching to your neck while Prudence lent forward, her breath ghosting over your lips. You whined. She chuckled but kissed you, her tongue invading your mouth. 

Agatha was dragging her nails over the skin of your stomach. You were arching your back into Dorcas’s touch. Prudence was holding you firmly in place with her fingers tangled in your hair. You whined, not sure what to do with your hands. 

Agatha grabbed both of your wrists, holding your hands behind your back. Dorcas slipped her fingers under the fabric of your bra, pinching your nipple between thumb and forefinger. Your head fell back, a moan falling from your lips. Prudence growled, tugging your hair to bring your head back towards her. Agatha’s teeth sunk into your skin, hard enough to leave bruises the next day. You made a strangled crying noise, waiting to touch at least one of them. 

“This is going to be fun,” Prudence murmured.

Dorcas pushed you down onto the soft carpet. Agatha pinned your wrists to the floor as Prudence hovered above you. You strained against the hold on you, wanting to touch them so badly. The way they were looking at you had you rubbing your thighs together, wanting to get some kind of friction.

Dorcas was there, pulling your legs apart and pinning your ankles to the floor to. Laying spread eagle on the floor, unable to move was making you wetter than you cared to admit. You whined.

Both Agatha and Dorcas began muttering under their breaths. It felt as if irons clamped around both wrists and both ankles, keeping you pinned to the floor. You tried to pull free but you were as trapped as if you’d been locked up. The three witches looked down at you, grinning like cats about to devour a bird. 

Prudence swooped down, her mouth landed on your breast. You arched up into the warm mouth. Another warm mouth latched onto the other nipple but by then your eyes had slipped closed and you weren’t trying to keep track of who was doing what. 

Warm lips skimmed up your legs. You quivered, moaning. One of the mouths trailed up your body, attaching to the pulse point in your neck, sucking on the skin hard. You cried out, your head falling back. The heat from the entire evening was catching up with you, making you needy and desperate. 

Fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties. A cold metal blade ran along the top of them. You strained against your bonds, surprised at the heat that surged in you at the feel. The knife sliced through your panties, leaving you bare to the witches above you.

A warm tongue ran up your slit. Your hips jerked up. A whimper fell from your lips and you weren’t able to focus on anything but the touches on your body. Your nipple was rolled between thumb and forefinger almost lazily. You whined.

They all seemed to be laughing as their hands were stroking along you. A single finger pressed to your entrance as a pair of lips wrapped around your clit. You cried out as the finger entered you while your bundle of nerves was sucked on. Your body writhed, the feeling almost too much. 

Another finger, this one shorter than the first entered you. A third pushed its way in, each curling in a different direction. You shuddered, writhing against the carpet, falling apart under the touches of the Weird Sisters.

Three sets of teeth sunk into different parts of your body; one in your thigh, one above your heart, one on your neck. You cried out, your orgasm crashing into you. Tears leaked from your eyes as your body shuddered uncontrollably. 

You blinked your eyes open, boneless and sated. Three pairs of eyes were looking down at you, each one looking satisfied with how completely you fell apart under their touch. 

“Enough of a reward for you?” you panted.

“Not even close.”

Mouths attached to your already overstimulated body, giving you a long night full of pleasure.


	49. Panic Attack (Hilda/Reader)

Your fingers were tapping against your knee. The thoughts were swirling around your head, making it hard to concentrate. You could hear Hilda talking but the words were muffled, not clear enough for you to understand. You tried to take a deep breath but it got stuck in your throat, your chest tightening up. 

Your foot was bobbing. Your breathing was shallow. You thought you might pass out.

You needed to get out of the house. It was cloying, the way the walls were drying closer. The air was being pulled from the room, the heat growing. You stood, pushing the chair back. It toppled to the floor, clattering loudly in the echoing silence in your ears. 

“Shit,” you muttered.

You ducked down quickly, wanting to right it. A pair of soft hands pulled you up. You made a whining noise, your hands still reaching for the toppled chair. There was no air left in the room. Fixing the chair would bring the air back. You were sure of it. 

“It’s fine, I can fix it,” you said, straining against the hands holding you in place.

“Shh, it’s alright my love.”

“No, no, I can make it better.” 

You were steered away from the toppled chair. Your breathing stopped almost completely. Darkness began to creep into the edges of your vision. You made a high keening noise.

The warm hands directed you into a new seat. A few muttered words and the tightness in your chest began to abate, the air coming easier. 

“Come on, love. In… Out…”

You followed the instructions, your lungs finally expanding properly. The darkness began to retreat, leaving you breathing deeply. You closed your eyes, not wanting to face Hilda. 

“How are you feeling?” 

You shook your head, focusing on your calming heart. You listened at the ticking of the clock, the sound of footsteps above your head and the feel of the sun’s warmth on your skin. You kept breathing deeply, your fingers unclenching and your foot stilling.

“Okay,” you said, “okay.”

“Love?”

“I’m fine, it’s all good,” you said, opening your eyes.

“Are you sure?”

Hilda’s wide eyes were kind and yet worried. Her hand gently stroked your cheek. You gave her a small smile, wobbly and uncertain. She gave you an answering one, not quite reaching her eyes.

“I’m okay,” you said, “I’m okay.”

You lent forward, pressing your lips to her cheek. The smile finally reached her eyes. You gave her a chaste kiss on her lips.

“Thank you,” you whispered.


	50. Sick (Zelda/Reader)

You sniffed, burrowing further under the blankets. You were shivering and sweating. Your head was stuffy and you missed the days when you could breath freely. You kept coughing up things that were better left unmentioned and you couldn’t stand the thought of eating anything more substantial than Hilda’s soup. 

The door creaked open. You peered up from your fort of blankets and pillows. Zelda was standing there, bowl of soup in hand, cup of tea in the other. She sat on the edge of the bed, putting both down in the beside table. You pouted at her, feeling sorry for yourself.

“Oh stop that,” Zelda said, “it’s nothing more than a cold.”

She pressed the back of her hand to your forehead. You moaned. It was so cold against your warm skin. Your eyes slipped closed, enjoying the feeling. You snuggled closer to her. 

“Hilda has informed me you are to eat all of this soup and drink all of that tea,” she said.

You took the bowl in hand, taking a sip straight from it. Zelda sighed, handing you the spoon.

“Good girl,” she said, brushing the hair back from your face. You gave her a smile, still spooning warm soup into your mouth. 

The next morning you were lying in the space between sleep and waking. The fever had broken at some point in the night and now all you were dealing with was a cough and a runny nose. The sunlight was bright in the room, keeping you from slipping back into sleep. 

“Hilda has sent up more tea.”

You blinked your eyes open, finding Zelda standing above you. You smiled, reaching out for the tea. She sneezed, the tea slopping over your outstretched hand. You winced, looking down at it.

“I didn’t know the requirement was to wear it,” you said.

Zelda pushed it into your hands. You drank from it, enjoying the way it warmed you up from the inside out. Zelda settled beside you, the mattress dipping. She put her hand on your forehead again. She hummed happily, settling back.

Zelda sneezed again, disturbing the calm. You put the cup down on the bedside table and sat, propped up by all the pillows. 

“Zelds, are you sick?” you asked, a wry smile growing on your face.

“Of course not,” she snapped, “I have never been sick a day in my life.”

You might have believed her if she didn’t sneeze four times in quick succession. You smiled, shuffling over in the bed. You held the blankets up. She looked at you with a quirked eyebrow.

“Come on,” you said, “if you’re sick then you can stay in bed with me all day.”

You didn’t need to say more to get her under the covers and in your arms.


	51. Confession (Zelda/Reader)

Your fingers were grasping at the sheets beneath your sweat slicked body. Your breath was coming out in short high pitched pants. Your toes were curling from the fire that was coursing through your bloodstream. You buried your face into your pillow, trying to keep quiet.

“Let go for me.”

Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over your body. You fell boneless to the mattress, gasping for breath. Zelda hovered over you, kissing you deeply. You tangled your fingers in her hair, trying to keep her in place. She giggled, rolling off you to lie beside you, leaning her cheek on her hand as her eyes roved over your body. You flushed under gaze, still as self-conscious around her as in the beginning.

She ran a finger down your cheek, tilting your head to look at her. Her lipstick was smeared and her hair was mussed but she was still the most beautiful person you’d ever laid eyes on. Your heart skipped a beat and it wasn’t just from the way your body was still coursing with endorphins. 

“So beautiful,” she murmured, kissing you again. 

You melted. She was able to turn you from a hot mess into a gooey mess in a matter of seconds. You curled an arm around her waist, pulling her back towards you. Her fingers tangled in your hair as she pressed her body against yours. 

“Zelda,” you murmured, “I have something to tell you.”

She drew back, putting some distance between the two of you. You bit down on your lower lip, your heart fluttering as her eyes focused on your mouth. You regretted admitted there was something you had to tell her. It was gong to change everything, you didn’t want to lose her.

“You know what, it doesn’t matter,” you said, trying to swoop in again to kiss her. 

She held you back, giving one of those looks that made you feel like you were about to be scolded like a schoolmarm. Usually it led to some very pleasurable activities. 

“Just spit it out,” she ordered.

You squeezed your eyes closed, not sure you could face her. You took a deep breath. She cupped your cheek. You blinked your eyes open. You hated that she looked worried.

“I’m in love with you.”

The silence drew on as she stared at you. You could feel the pressure building behind your eyes. You sat up, scrabbling for the blanket to cover yourself now. Hot shame coated your body. You scrambled to get off the bed, already looking for the clothes Zelda had flung across the room. You didn’t need to stay any longer. It was obvious how she felt.

A warm hand grasped your arm above the elbow, stopping you from moving. You kept your body turned away from her, not able to face her after this kind of callous rejection. 

“I love you too.”

Her voice was soft, too soft, making you almost miss her confession. You scrunched your eyes closed, sure your hope was making you hear wrong.

“I love you so much.”

She put her hand on your cheek, turning your head to look at her. She pressed her lips to yours, drawing you back towards her. She kept murmuring her confession to you against her lips. She tugged the blankets away from your body, her fingers skimming over your exposed skin. 

You straddled her lap, thrusting your fingers into her hair to hold her in place. She slid her fingers down your spine, grasping your ass. You trailed your lips down to her earlobe. You nibbled on it, her hands kneading at the flesh of your ass. 

“Time for you to feel good,” you whispered into her ear.

You pushed her back on the bed, working down her body, ready to devour her.


	52. Your Saviour (Zelda/Reader)

Your eyes were trained on the red head across the room. You watched her take a drink from her wine glass, her lipstick marking the crystal. You couldn’t tear your aways from the exquisite specimen of witch kind. She caught your eye, sending a smile in your direction. You steeled your nerves, getting ready to approach her. 

“I hope you’re enjoying your evening, my dear.”

You turned away from Zelda, finding Faustus at your elbow. He handed you a glass of the wine, the deep red liquid looking more like blood than alcohol. He held up his own glass to you in a toast before downing his whiskey. 

“It’s very nice.”

You stared down at your tapping foot. You should have expected this when you’d received the invitation, but you’d been so excited at the thought of seeing Zelda that you hadn’t let it cross your mind. Given that every single time you’d seen Faustus he had tried to get you on your knees, and it wasn’t for prayer. 

“It’s nicer now you’re here,” he said, giving you what you assumed he thought was a suave look. You sighed in response.

He ran a finger down your arm, stepping closer. You averted your eyes, wanting to move away but knowing it was easier to put up with his advances and then say not at the last moment. It kept him from getting angry if you played it off as your modesty. 

“You are looking ravishing tonight.”

You subtly brushed his hand from your arm in the guise of taking a sip from the wine he’d given you. 

“Thank you.”

He lowered his voice, bringing his face closer to yours. You fought against flinching away from him, needing a shower to clean away the scum that was clinging to you. You shivered in disgust as his breath hit the bare skin of your neck. He gave you a smile, his eyes dipping down to your cleavage. You fought hard against covering yourself from his gaze. 

“I’m not required to be here the entire night,” he said, “I can slip away without it being commented on.”

“She, however, can not.”

Zelda has miraculously appeared at your other elbow. Her glare was levelled at Faustus and knew you would not want to be the recipient of that look. Her hand settled on the small of your back, sending warmth up your spine. 

“Sister Zelda, what in Hell’s name are you talking about?” he demanded.

“The crowd is sure to notice if the crown jewel of the evening turns up missing,” she replied.

The compliment sounded much nicer coming from Zelda. 

“They cannot begrudge her some pleasure,” he said.

“No, but they begrudge you for hogging her all evening, Come, we require your dazzling presence over here,” Zelda said.

She took your hand, weaving her fingers through yours. She pulled you away from Faustus, you going willingly with her. She took you to the other side of the room, ignoring Blackwood’s protests. 

“You must see the view from the balcony,” she whispered to you. Her breath on the bare skin of your breath sent shivers down your spine for a very different reason. 

Outside the night air was cool but the stars were bright. Zelda lent against the railing, facing you. You gave her a smile.

“Thank you for that,” you said.

“I can recognise a woman in distress,” she replied.

“I’m sure he means well, but I could not be less interested in that man,” you said, “he seems to be unable to understand that.”

“Faustus has always had an inflated sense of ego,” she said.

“He ignores every sign I’m interested in someone else.”

Her eyes bored into yours, her interest now captured. You looked up at her from under your eyelashes. 

“And is this someone else aware of your interest?” she asked.

“I think they’re about to be.”

The kiss started out tentative. You weren’t sure how Zelda was going to react to your confession but you hoped, given the way she had flirted with you your entire friendship, that she would be receptive. She pulled you against her, her arms keeping you in place.

“I think she might be interested too,” she said.

She kissed you too thoroughly to give a proper response.


	53. Riding (Zelda/Reader)

You hadn’t thought you would be stolen away from the party. Least of all by the host. And yet here you were in a room upstairs, Zelda Spellman’s hot body underneath you, her lips pressing against yours, demanding your full attention. 

Your fingers were tangled in her hair while hers were resting on the small of you’r back, pressing your body against her’s. You were gasping into her mouth, grinding down on her as the heat built between the two of you. She was consuming you, ever single thought that managed to get through your head. 

One of her hands slipped under your skirt, her fingertips skimming against the skin of your thigh. Her lips trailed to the column of your neck, nipping at your pulse point. Your head fell back, a moan falling from your lips. She chuckled, her warm tongue soothing over your skin. 

Her finger ran over the front of your panties. Your hips bucked towards her touch, barely touched and yet already throbbing. She hooked a finger into the waistband of your underwear, snapping it against your skin. You made a high whining sound, your fingers tightening in her hair.

Her other hand dived under your skirt. She ripped the panties from your body, throwing the two pieces away. She forced your down onto her bare thigh. You gasped, the pressure enough to send singles over your skin. 

Your juices began to slick her thigh, making you slip closer to her as you tried to adjust your position. You groaned, your head falling forward at the feeling. Her hands settled on your hips, her fingers digging into your skin as she moved you back down her thigh. You whimpered. 

“Let me see you,” she murmured.

You looked at her, moving your hips against her skin. She lent back against the pillows, watching you as ground against her leg. Her hands on your hips guided you. The friction against your clit was making you gasp for breath. Her eyes were hooded as she watched you, making you flush under her gaze. 

Your movement got faster as the pleasure built. Your eyes squeezed shut. One of her hands left your hip, grasping your chin in hand. 

“Open your eyes,” she commanded.

You shook your head. Her hold on tightened painfully.

“Open. You’re. Eyes.”

Your eyes snapped open, staring into hers. You could see the heat in them, a smirk on her lips but her cheeks were flushed a pleasurable pink. 

Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. You might have screamed for all you knew but all you could focus on was the way you felt weightless. She surged up, kissing you harshly. She bit down on your lower lip, tugging on it. 

You clutched her, your body spasming as her thigh moved against your still sensitive bundle of nerves. She hummed, doing it again. You felt boneless and electric. You kissed her with wild abandon, tugging on her hair. She wrapped her arms around your waist, keeping you close.

“Shouldn’t we get back to the party?” you whispered.

“The party can wait.”

She rolled you over, hovering above you. Your back arched as her hands delved under layers of clothes. In truth, you didn’t care about the party. You only cared about this moment with her.


	54. A Relaxing Bath (Marie/Reader)

You slammed the door closed, unable to stop yourself stomping like a child in the middle of a tantrum. In your defence, your day had been awful. It had started with you being completely drenched by a rainstorm on your walk to work, followed by having coffee tipped over you in an accident you had no way of stopping, concluded with a quick succession of IT problems that left you with losing all your files culminating in your boss shouting at you for all the problems in the office all day.

“Are you alright, ma cherie?”

You dropped your bag onto the kitchen counter. Marie came around, wrapping her arms around you. You lent into her, ready to let her carry the weight of the world for a little while.

“It has been a terrible day.”

She pressed a kiss to your temple. You sighed, the first smile of the day breaking over your face. You buried your face in her neck.

“Then I suppose it’s good that I have run you a bath already.”

“I love you,” you said, kissing her deeply. 

She laughed, pushing you back.

“Go, ma cherie,” she said, “I will join you in a minute.”

The bathroom’s light was low, flickering candles all that was lighting the room. Steam was rising from the deep bath. You took a deep breath in, the scent of lavender filling your head. You slipped out of your clothes, stepping into the bath. You sighed as you sunk down into the water. You felt your muscles begin to relax as you lent back, your eyes slipping closed.

“Here you are, ma cherie.”

Marie handed you a glass of wine. You took a sip from it, moaning at how good it was. She took a washcloth in hand, gently running it over your arms and shoulder. You lent forward, letting her get your back. Her hand on your shoulder pulled you back.

Her hand slipped down your body. Your back arched as it skimmed over your body. A pair of warm lips attached to your earlobe. A thumb ran over your nipple, the washcloth abandoned. Your head lolled back, letting her hands wander over your body. She knew exactly how to play your body.

Your legs fell open as her other hand slipped between them. Your eyes slipped closed as her hand moved against you, rubbing against your clit. It was soft and tender, the pleasure blooming rather than raging through you. Your breathing grew heavy, your chest heaving as her other hand palmed your breast.

“Relax, ma cherie,” she whispered in your ear, “let go.”

Your orgasm rippled out, sending you smiling. Your muscles relaxed, boneless and sated. You took a sip from your wine, turning your head. Marie kissed you, soft and sweet.

“Better, ma cherie?” she asked.

“I will be when you get in here with me.”

That was all the invitation she needed.


	55. Jealous (Lilith/Reader)

“A book of beautiful poetry for a beautiful girl.”

You looked up from the book in the hands. You’d been considering buying it, some verses reminding you of Lilith enough that you wished to share them with her. Luckily enough you were meeting her here, able to reveal your find over a shared milkshake. 

“Allow me to purchase it for you.”

You turned your attention to the man standing slightly too close to you. His cologne was wafting towards you, his suit crisp, and his hair perfectly styled. No one like that lived in Greendale, and if they did, you would have noticed him. His cobalt blue eyes were icy and his smirk was too self assured. You took half a step back.

“No thank you,” you said, placing it back on the shelf. You could always come back for it later.

“Then perhaps we could discuss poetry over a coffee,” he suggested. He placed his hand on your lower back, trying to lead you towards one of the tables.

You pulled out of his hold right as the bell above the door rang. You sighed, putting on your most professional looking smile, getting ready to tell this asshole to leave you alone. He slipped his hand onto your arm, gripping you too tightly for you to pull away this time. He lent closer.

“I really think you should stay,” he whispered, “I have a lot of influence and I don’t think you want to upset me.”

“She might not, but I have no qualms about it.”

Lilith’s eyes were as icy as the stranger’s but this time it was directed at the man towering over you. His grip on you tightened, cutting off your blood flow and most likely leaving bruises. The only bruises you liked seeing on your body were left from Lilith during your more adventurous dalliances. 

“Let her go.”

He must have seem something in her look because he let you go as if you’d burnt him. You stumbled back a step, rubbing your arm to get your blood flowing again. 

“I suggest you leave.”

The man scurried out of the shop, not offering a backwards glance. Lilith directed her eyes back to you, looking no less dangerous now you were the one in her sights. She reached forward, slipping her arm around your waist, pulling you into her. She pressed her body against yours, heat flickering over your skin. 

“Next time a strange man approaches you, you say no,” she hissed.

“I did.”

“You walk away.”

“I tried.”

“You make it clear to him you are already claimed.”

“I was going too.”

“You. Are. Mine.”

Her lips were demanding against yours, her teeth biting down hard enough to draw blood. The coppery tang clung to your tongue as her’s brushed against yours. You felt as helpless as the first time she’d kissed you, leading to more carnal pleasures than could be expressed in a public place. 

“Mine,” she whispered, pressing one last kiss to your lips.

“Yours,” you agreed. 

She looked s little happier at that, leading you to one of the tables. You were much happier with this partner then the last.


	56. Confessions (Hilda/Reader)

“And I just think she’s the loviest person on the planet,” you finished up your ramble. 

Your best friend gave you one of those unsure nods that you were used to after one of your rambles. They’d known you long enough for you to be aware they was still processing everything you had just said. But you needed to get your feelings off your chest.

Hilda Spellman had started taking over your every waking thought, and your sleeping thoughts too. It was all consuming, the love that had crept up on you after months of friendship. You needed to let those feelings out, and the only one you could trust was your best friend. They was the only one you could trust to not tell anyone about your feelings. 

They started laughing, their head thrown back. Indignation crept up in you. You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, waiting for their fit to finish.

“Are you done?” you snapped.

“(Y/N), you’re such an idiot,” they said, still laughing.

“I should never have said anything to you,” you said.

They shook their head again, still laughing. You had no reason to except them to show you any kind of empathy for your situation but this was beyond anything you would have expected. You wanted to hit them, or maybe disembowel them.

“No, no, you don’t understand,” they said through their giggles. 

“Obviously,” you said.

“Hilda said something to me the other day I think you’ll find very interesting,” they said.

“Don’t you dare say anything,” another voice said from behind you.

You turned, finding Hilda standing behind you, pointing at your best friend with a fierce look in her eyes. You flinched back, surprised at the intensity of her look. 

“Don’t you go saying things you have no right to share,” she said, storming up to your table.

That only sent your friend into another fit of giggles.

“Are they broken?” Hilda asked you. You could only shrug in response.

“I think you guys need to talk,” they said, standing up from their seat.

You tried to grab at their arm to make them stay and explain their absolute insanity but they slipped away before you could. They avoided getting too close to Hilda, her look still dangerous. You watched them leave, still laughing at whatever kind of idiocy you had expressed. 

“Do you have any idea what is going on there?” you asked, “what did you say to them?”

“Nothing important,” she said, taking her seat your friend had just vacated.

“Well, given I was talking to her about you, it must be something,” you said, “all I did was admit I have a bit if a crush on you and that was enough to induce that state.”

You clapped your hand over your mouth, staring wide eyed at her. You could feel yourself turning bright red. She was looking at you, mouth having fallen open. 

“Sorry,” you squeaked.

“I think I understand why they were laughing,” she said, her voice small.

“Oh?”

“I happen to also have admitted to them I have a crush on you,” she said.

You took a second before a smile broke out on your face. She gave you an awkward answering smile in return. 

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” you asked.

“Yes.”


	57. A Breakup (Hilda/Reader)

You were wiping down one of the table, a spilled milkshake making the surface sticky. It was the end of the day, your feet were aching, and you were already dreaming of your bed. The soft pillows, the comfortable mattress, the warm blankets. Its siren song was calling to you.

You sighed, plopping down onto the seat. You buried your head in your hands, your eyes slipping closed. You sighed, getting ready to stand up again and finish your shift. You hoped Hilda would be back soon, not just to help. She always made you forget your problems with little more than a warm smile. 

A body landed on the seat across from you. You opened your eyes, looking into the upset eyes of Hilda. Tears were gathering in her eyes, and for the first time you you had to wonder if you were going to have to comfort the woman you worked alongside.

“Are you okay?” you asked, steeling yourself for an intense conversation. 

“I ended things with Doctor Cee,” she said.

“Why?” you asked, “I thought you were totally in love.”

“I was,” she sighed. 

“So what happened?”

She buried her face in her folded arms on the table. You hesitantly reached over the table, patting her on the shoulder in what you hoped was a comforting gesture. She sniffled. She mumbled something too muffled for you to hear. 

“Hilda?”

She looked up at you, tear tracks shining in the light filtering in from outside. You reached a hand down, cupping her cheek, using your thumb to wipe one away. She gave you a watery smile, looking surprisingly happy considering the situation.

“I said I realised I was with the wrong person,” she said, “that the person I was totally in love with wasn’t Doctor Cee.”

“I don’t understand,” you said, “you did all you could to seduce the good doctor.”

“I should have never done that.” She shook her head. 

“Hilda, what on earth are you talking about?”

“You’re the one I love.”

You blinked at her, then blinked again. She covered the hand on her cheek with her own, giving you one of those dazzling smiles that made your heart beat a little quicker. You gave her one in answer, not sure you had the words to tell her.

“Is that okay?” She sounded worried, that self doubt slipping through in the cadence of her voice. 

“That’s more than okay,” you said, “but won’t this be awkward with Doctor Cee?”

“I quit.”

“Oh.”

You ran your thumb over her cheekbone, watching her smile again. You ignored your aching body, choosing to focus on her for a little while longer. Sure you still wanted your bed, but not enough to break this moment.


End file.
